Butterflies of Beauty
Nineteen pecan trees stood outside my door
And every year they would give up their yield
The squirrels were happy, but there was much more
Every fall the trees would became a field…
As brilliant orange and black curtains, abound
The Monarchs gathered on branches to rest
They would cover the trees from top to ground
‘Fore heading south for a warm place to nest.
Delicate wings fluttering in the trees
But with us, only a few days they’d stay
A ballet, as they frolicked in the breeze
Then all at once, instinct took them away.
Nature painted this scene for us to see
But only for a moment, then they'd flee.
1/11/2017
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