If I buzzed about in blooms,
I’d chat with friends in rosy rooms.
I’d sip from fragrant purple buds
in polka-dotted pollen duds.
I’d soar among the hollyhocks
and snuggle into frilly frocks.
I’d conjure up a sweetened brew
that’d flow like sunshine’s golden hue.
I’d rest beneath a hosta bell
where perfumed dreams would cast their spell.
If my thoughts were like the bee,
my buzz would set emotions free.
Put the buzz in your hive . . . precious prairie people.
All words and photos property of Peacock Prairie.