New things

A meagre bee, she tours the edge of a petal,

Nervous, she shivers toward the center,

Nectar novel, for it's her first.

Another worker zips to her tulip's neighbour,

A blur, hardly even there,

And with a quick skuttle, the visit is over.

Eager, she tries that too.

With a hasty wobble, she tumbles,

Headfirst between petals, a jumble of legs,

They flail, until the nectar is hers!

No-one to notice that little bee,

Aside with eyes proud, but she knows not to mind.

In victory, she pulls herself upward,

To find her next flower.