bird said to bee

Bird said to bee, 
I like your style. 
You get along sweet 
in the clover fields, 
and unlike other bugs 
I hate swallowing you. 
It swells in the throat 
with a sting I fear, 
so I've had to hop 

taken aback, some 
detached. And it's 
given me a chance 
to get into you. 

How you flit 
in beelines, making 
breezy and madcap dash 
to the hive to communicate 
through this crazy dance. 

Now, me, I can fly! 
And so can my friends 
- how did we, how did I 
never really occur to such 
sweet routines? I guess 

we got lost in song. 

Same beans. 

But I love you bee, 
bird sweetly confessed, 
and I'm glad I had a chance 
to make this clean breast.