|
| |
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
A delicate design, gently painted are white ink spots on each wispy wing
polka dots align her spine, O what a sight for sore eyes in virgin spring
A fancy moth is what some say, an insect with a marbled brown fringe ‘til they're taken aback by flair’s array, iridescent cerulean and teal tinge
A thousand miles she will fly, against Fall's tender cool azure sky
golden rays her solar compass, to orient her pathways—alas
Her journey comes to an end, up the coast where time she’ll spend
Vanessa flutters by, a painted lady, a butterfly
Copyright ©
I Am Anaya
|
|