“They’re busy at work” Gun Roswell

When the day begins
The garden alive, almost like spring
The birds in the trees sing
Their song, most likely, of the pending fall
As they sit and sing, in the trees tall
Sitting, in my solemn seat
Watching, the life on display, such a treat
With the smells and monotonous sounds
Everywhere, to be found

And then, comes, the annoying buzzing
As if someone started, really loud humming
Breaking, the calming routine of it all
Just as I, was thinking, the time had stalled
They are so loud, even if their bodies are quite small
They fly by, really, really fast
Like some kamikaze planes, from the past
And finally landing, onto the flowers pretty
Suckling in, all the nectar, really quickly
Clearly, the harvest time, for our winged friends
As their hive, on this precious food source, depend
Gathering it all ,with professional precision
Then bringing it back, for the queen’s decision
As to whom shall be rewarded, with the nectar of gods
That scene would indeed, be, an interesting thing, to blog