A Bee on the Breeze

Having sailed over
     a green sea,  
Far from home 
    and shore,
Upon a small isle 
    I  set my keel,
A place I’d never
     been before,
To replenish 
    diminished stores 
From natures bloom,
    Those rebels of doom,
Fragrant flowers 
    of spring.

So praises I  sing 
With lines of rhyme,
    Of ambrosias 
    sweet in taste,
‘Fore the sickle of time
Those  posies reposed 
    lays waste.