Mademoiselle Papillon
Flittering along with gossamer wings
She espied the lemony yellow rose
Alighting gently, her place to repose
Quietly, her thoughts vague whispery things
She’d flown from up north where the cold wind stings
Now basking in the sun’s glows
Plants and shrubs in haphazardly strewn rows
Resting, listening to natural things
Searching miles for her nurturing milkweed
Living to lay eggs, her purpose in life
Never stopping to question reasons why
Performing her duty, her inner need
Accomplishing with little or no strife
The short but sweet life of this (Monarch) butterfly
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