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fly in the sunshine quick little happy bee,
land in the flower in the shade of a tree,
collecting the pollen and returning home,
making drippy honey sliding on the comb,
collected again to be put into the jar,
then on a shelf and purchased put into a car,
sat in the cupboard until pancakes made,
the sliding honey runs off the end of the knife blade,
soaking deep into bread cooked toast,
glazed over the surface of a perfect roast,
deep into my belly giving satisfaction around,
settling the gurgles of groaning tummys sound,
all this from a bug making fluid from a plant,
keep them alive and safe because losing them we can't.