The Butterfly
As she drinks nectar from a flower,
sweetness from heaven falls like dew
anointed with a gentle rain amidst sun
showers she appears as if on cue
Lifting her wings she lands on a Zinnia
beneath a tinted sky of April blue
flight of fancy fanning fast, fabulous
marvel, she is beauty true on true
Being sent from up above,
fragile like pretty stained glass
her colors shine in the bright sunlight
so heavenly as I walk in the grass
Then she starts to land
flying down and landing right on me,
after taking a short rest she is off
flying away with her friend the big bee
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