He would fly from blossom to blossom
His back legs caked in yellow powder
And his queen would be appreciative
Dagmar felt the same way while gathering his pollen
Which happened to be yellow-cake uranium
His queen was an admiral with a vision for the future
Unlike all the bureaucrats he had toyed with over the decades
Dagmar's hive was humming with activity
Plans were made and set
Coordination was key, but Dagmar was certain
That the future involved both him and the admiral
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