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”.