The Butterfly
The Butterfly
By Mystic Rose
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
By Sean Kibble
A pair of glistening green eyes, glower in awe at the Morpho as she fanned
Fast as a flash, an imp with trusses of curly golden hair, swipes a tiny hand
To his wonder the elusive chrysalis hopped on to his outstretched arm
She hovered gracefully upon his palm displaying all its charm
Entranced by this serendipity, mum drew near to the spellbinding reverie
With a glint of mischief, face alight with joy he muttered “I think she likes me”.
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