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Past the precious petals a bee
Did softly fly----
Swiftly, surely
He passed the flower by.

He did not spare a glance----
For the blossoms less----
Because there was a certain bloom
With whom he dearly wished to dance.

Such a treasure he did not see
And onward went the lonesome bee.
Quickly, Quietly---
He searched for a single tree.

For he did not look for beauty----
Or colors rich and pure
He in fact searched for love
He flew towards home and there lied sorrows cure.





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