Honey Days
Bees fly low across the grass,
Busy wings as hours pass.
Dipping deep in bloom and bud,
Fields are sweet and thick with mud.
Golden light and buzzing near,
Work goes on from far to near.
Tiny bodies never rest,
Building up a yellow nest.
Hives are humming in the shade,
Drips of honey slowly made.
Sticky fingers, jars in rows,
Warm and glowing as it goes.
Toast with butter, honey spread,
Morning sun above your head.
Simple things are best, they say,
Moments make a honey day.
About the Creator
George’s Girl 2026
I've been writing poetry since the age of 10. With pen in hand, I wander the realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture you ❤️#Marie381UkWrites
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Comments (3)
Buzziful ( beautiful )! Love your poem🐝🐝🐝❤️❤️❤️
Amazing!!!
I could see the bees buzzing as well as the honey dripping. Good job.