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