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O' Butterfly, a child, disgraced 
Bewitched without a chance
Beguiled, exquisitely endowed. Frail wings held no escape
Such innocence would glaze her eyes, as gossamer might do

He wooed her far astray with words, of promised wedded bliss
Travail would kiss the purest heart, 
and weigh her soul with song

~

The season blossomed, softly charmed
of spring and cultured lore
But disarmed with hope of tender leaves
of which the leaves were tongues

His arms had warmed the coldest night, no stars to right the wrongs 
Tho' moon wore shadows of the sins 
conceived by western codes 

Her nature pure, as gentle rain, was as welcome as the sun
Expressed in humble, reverent awe,...so eloquently sung 

A collector dressed in mock disguise…, without a thought or shame
forgetful of her fragile ways, he caught her by surprise
A uniform of chloroform, a smile that didn't warn

A net, he held, along with schemes, a plot to win her hand
then trapped her with a smile, a whim, a ruse of false intent

With kisses spent, upon her cheek
She flew into the bliss, with trust, a web of false retreat....
The deep abyss of love, she fell, her heart upon her sleeve 
His promises, with no repent, pretense, though, never spent 

Beneath the spell.....he said farewell, and kept the lies intact.

With broken wings she could not fly
Her eyes gazed out upon the seas
Her voice cried out soliloquies
But anguish left her there to die
as if to find release

Her heart impaled. The sword had won
Grief had muted midnight's tongue
while east winds echoed with her song…
In death her song lives on


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Inspired by the opera "Madame Butterfly"

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