Ah what wondrous happenstance,
For a worm to reach by chance,
The form of a beautiful butterfly,
And sip the dew drops where they lie,
On silken petals fragrant, sweet,
In forest lawn till I'm repleat.
For now I'm locked in this chrysalis,
Dreaming of a Lily chalis,
From which I'll sip the nectar sweet,
Where fairies dance on tiny feet,
In garden, glen and meadow land,
And apple trees in grandeur stand.
(This just sortof came to me this morning when reading Don Johnson's poem "Butterfly Dreams. Let me know what you think. Is it a keeper?)