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Fuzzy Buzzy
 





When you gather up that pollen, Fuzzy Buzzy,
the baskets on your legs yellow and fat,
you're getting tired of working, Fuzzy Buzzy,
your early morning eagerness fell flat!

You've got to stop and smell the roses, Fuzzy Buzzy.
When you pass them in the garden, please just stop.
The aroma is God's sweetest floral perfume,
with a buzz to keep you going 'til you drop!

Now hum this while you gather, Fuzzy Buzzy,
that other workers learn the lesson too.
It's no good having Muzzy Fuzzy Buzzy...
please stop and smell a rose...or even two.




By cherryk

© 2017 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES (challenge has been closed)


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