The Flowing Nectar of the Rose

The bee may kiss the petaled face Of any bloom bathed in the sun As every rose smiles in her place. Nectar gathered, left not a trace, So, every honey drop is won; The bee may kiss the petaled face. She contributes an air of grace Betwixt the thorns that she may shun As every rose smiles in her place. And still the bee may essence chase Until a honeycomb is spun: The bee may kiss the petaled face. So, where the leafy stems embrace, At daytime's end ~ when light is done, As every rose smiles in her place. But not the darkness can erase The flora, fauna, way things run, The bee may kiss the petaled face As every rose smiles in her place.