Drops of Nectar
At summer's end, at perfect time,
Hosta shoots reach up high;
As the purple cups, hanging down,
Beckon those flying by.
_ _
With whirring wings and slender beak,
Colors catching the sun,
Humming birds feast as they hover,
Always amazing one.
_ _
Yet on this day, the lumbering
Of those inside the cup,
Fumbling, tumbling, the bumblebees
Rouse this watching one up.
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For while drinking drops of nectar
Prepared in flower'd jar,
The bees, unknowingly, bear gold,
Life that's spread near and far.
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So too we receive His blessings
Not seeing as we taste,
Others touched as we're becoming
The vessels of His grace.