Up here in northern Appalachia Mountains
Us country folk live life to our own tempo
every morning in spring when dew’s a’glistenin’
You can hear old timers talk their native lingo
You need pay attention to anybody be listenin’
When a buzzing by the apples blossoms in the hollow
Sends the whole town scurrying and out in a smidgin
The excitement picks up like a flight of swallows
Cause it’s time for townsfolk to head to the motion
Of many large buzzing bees to find and follow
With old canning jars position over the commotion
And capture thousands at a time in flowered meadows
And back to the kitchen to prepare a strong potion
Loaded with sweet nectar to make what nature bestows
Into that sweet and delicious…. "Bumblebee Wine"