Gypsy Bee Poem by James Walter Orr

The bee finds its bloom where the road runs long;
Where the nectar's sweet and the scent is strong,
Where the air is filled with all natures song.
Now, the future's made of memories known,
And the joys are found in the banquets thrown
With a transit love it can call its own.

I'm a gypsy bee with an appetite,
For the sweetest juice, but it's etched in stone,
When my seasons done I will take to flight
And the path I fly, I will fly alone.