My Grandpa has a box full of bees.
All day they work to make lots of honey.
Flying from flower to flower with great ease.
Only to be seen when the day is sunny.
Smooth, sticky, golden and creamy.
It makes everyday seem so dreamy.
Smooth as the silkworms’ white silk.
Sticky as liquid Elmer’s glue.
Golden as heaven’s streets God built.
Creamy as the cow’s milk that did spew.
Honey is a sweet token on everyone’s tongue.
We’ll give you lots, but careful not to get stung.
Careful not to get stung.
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