"Like trains of cars on tracks of plush

I hear the level bee:

A jar across the flowers goes,

Their velvet masonry

 

Withstands until the sweet assault

Their chivalry consumes,

While he, victorious, tilts away

To vanquish other blooms.

 

His feet are shod with gauze,

His helmet is of gold;

His breast, a single onyx

With chrysoprase, inlaid.

 

His labor is a chant,

His idleness a tune;

Oh, for a bee's experience

Of clovers and of noon!"

--Emily Dickinson
 

There are so many bees outside at the moment! And they do pollinate the dandelions!