In a meadow bathed in morning light,
A flower bloomed, her heart so bright.
She waited there with petals wide,
For her dear bee, her joy, her guide.
A butterfly danced through the air,
With wings of silk and colors rare.
"Hello, sweet flower," the butterfly said,
But she just bowed her gentle head.
"My bee will come," she whispered low,
"With buzzing song and love to show."
The butterfly left, light as a sigh,
And children came with laughter high.
They chased the wings that shimmered blue,
Then saw the flower kissed by dew.
"Let’s pluck this one!" a child did cry—
The flower trembled, fearing why.
But just as fingers reached her stem,
A buzzing came—a golden gem!
The bee arrived with mighty sound,
The children froze, then fled the ground.
He circled once, then landed near,
And kissed her soft, "I’m finally here."
The flower beamed beneath the sun,
Her waiting over—love had won.
