Labor Of Love Poem by Ima Ryma

During my workday I fly miles,
Make lots of stops at flower plants,
Get nectar and pollen in piles,
Signal coworkers with my dance.
Nectar, I store in my tummy.
Pollen, on my back legs I haul.
Both are edible and yummy.
A lot of pollen I let fall
So that other flowers can grow.
Through lots of time and space I roam,
Gathering up my quota so
Then I know I need to head home.

A female honeybee I be,
A worker for my hive is me.