A small bug in yellow and gold,
Looking good, if I may be bold,
Flap my wings over hundred fold,
Flitting from flower to flower.

Nectar I collect, brown and sweet,
Pollen I carry on my feet,
Working all through the summer heat,
Flitting from flower to flower.

Sacs full, back I fly to the hive,
Empty and back again I dive,
Tired at end of the day arrive,
Flitted from flower to flower.

In winter too there's not much rest,
Protect the hive, I do our best,
But I take a break from the quest,
Flitting from flower to flower.