honey

Through the quiet of the midnight trees, Float the buzzing honey bees. Upon the gentle summer’s breeze They dance among the autumn leaves. Telling tales to one and all, They reminisce about the fall, For all their trials, both short and tall, Couldn't stop their honeyed call. For they are there, in flowers far, As well as those kept in your jar, To raise the ever heightened bar, That we expect from honey tar.