I'm going to pick berries, all by myself,
enough to fill the bucket high on the shelf.
When I come home, we'll make a treat,
sweet jam on toast for me to eat.
The scratchy branches could scrape my knees,
but I'm more scared of the buzzing bees.
Mama says hold still, they will fly away.
Bees want nectar, so I'll be okay!
I'm going to get nectar, all on my own,
nectar from the vines where the flowers have grown.
We'll make honey when I come home,
sweet honey to fill our honeycomb.
Through scratchy branches I can duck and dive.
It's people that scare me when I leave the hive.
Mama says fly high, they will move away.
People want berries, so I'll be okay!