In this small box,
my love,you'll not find a ring,
but instead, a brave little bee.
He'll be dead by morn,
having given his life
defending his flowers against me.
I felt his sting
while picking the small,
purple pansiesgrowing wild along the roadside,
in hopes of an afternoon bouquet for you.
And I grieved the sting,
more for him than me,
knowing full well the price he paid
for my small pain.
And I allowed him his victory,
leaving his flowers as a memory,
and brought you insteadthis brave little bee,
who proves there is love
even in the smallest
of things.
Lowell Parker
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