Happy hour at Dew Drop Inn,
A Morning Glory wat'ring hole,
To give a buzz with pure pollen.
This macrogalea bee's soul
Bellied up to the bar alone.
My eyes adjusted to the dark.
It is bliss in that pollen zone.
Blooms know I am an easy mark.
So bottoms up, the pollen sticks,
As it comes time to make my way
To do my pollinating tricks,
And fly into the light of day.
Morning Glory pollen for me.
Just how loaded can one bee be!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem