I follow the bees that follow the breeze
into the unknown, the honeycombs.
I roam alone, in the rim of skies,
blowing into Breezehome in Bri’s home.

This home is a haven, a heaven—
a flowerbed of rooms and blossoms,
with room to bloom, rosy and cozy.

If bees could talk, they’d blush with love
when they greet their drippy honey hive.

A delightful sunny day to love bees’ home.