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