Today I was sitting as I often do,
smelling the roses, sprinkled with dew.

A bee came along doing its work,
probing the flowers, not one to shirk.

Amazing I found this to be,
as I watched tiny honeybee.

Studying with an inquiring mind,
staring at this honeybee's behind.

Caressing petals with its feet,
suckling flowers nectar, sweet.

Probing deep inside with its head,
pollen gathering for it to spread.

Anther of one, to stigma of another.
Fertilizing the ovule of every other.

Performing nature's life task.
Of myself a question I asked.

Curiosity getting the better of me,
inquisitiveness always the key.

From within my demented mind,
comes a picture, pleasure defined.

Does the flower or the honeybee,
ever achieve orgasmic glee?