Stealing clovers from the bumblebee

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She had massive pollen sacs on her legs;
Her hairy body allowed her to work on this cold, cloudy day.
Her hive is awake, alive.
We need provisions, they say collectively.
The Queen is hungry, so too are the larvae.
The drones need energy for their first mating swarms.

The floral diversity abounds, the young worker can afford to be choosy.
The clovers I took won't matter to her,
But for me, a soothing and delicious tea!
We are both after the same commodity, in the end, nectar.

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