Is she drunk, this bumblebee,

as she stumbles and crawls

inside the crocus flower?

She is certainly bedraggled,

having just woken

from a very long sleep,

and in the urgent need

to drink a flower’s nectar

she forgot her usual early morning cleansing.

I love this busy Moma,

this fuzzy beastie, little Queen,

all hum and quiver,

full of vigour.