Butterfly
By Tatiana Pahlen

I spread my wings to fly,
from flower to flower,
with sundry butterflies.
We flap for miles and miles
compiling the sweetened powder
from blooming fields and lawns;
The daybreak's early hours
refreshing air with power
of icy, luscious dew —
so radiant and sour
Thus, the leaves parade their hues.
All day I praise my Lord
for a metamorphic dowry,
It baits a rueful horde,
inducing me to cower
and shedding off my fold.
I spread my wings to fly.
Don't seize me please,
I'll die.

January 31, 2000

Copyright © 2000 Tatianyc. All Rights Reserved.