Delight

In the flowering of all my delights,
I am as a bee collecting nectar
to become the honey of gratitude,
substance of inner art that's mellifluous

my mind's the hive, uncertainty, queen bee,
my wings tremble breezes of fancy's flight
I am always tripping flowers and back
I'm worker bee, no other would I be

of the far provenance of the flower,
I know not…