The Nectar of My Childhood

Sunflower yellow with shades of coal,
My comfort and safety are in his control.
He has had his days worn out, he cries
the days we shared have flown on by.
Little bee has eyes like obsidian.

As I smell the nectar of my childhood a shiver runs down my spine
he smells so clean fresh like a pine.
He guards my room
all the time.

He is safety, safe in my grasp,
His tag is the one who brings him home
his little microchip is the colour of chrome.
Memories remind me of the delightful times we had
though there is still more out there I’m glad.
Planes, car rides, parties galore
No wonder I love my bee with such adore.