The first bloom of the season

She’s the prettiest flower of the branch

The honey bees become in treason

And fly to her from all corners of the ranch

The next flowers pop up

Just as beautiful as the last

The honey bees honey now fills cups

And they all taste the same way as the mast

But as the season starts to fade

One last blossom must come though

Just as spring is about to wade

The most beautiful blossom comes true

The first blossom grieves

As she cannot be so pretty like the last

But all flowers wilt, and she believes

Next season she’ll wait longer to cast