You are so ethereal and so fragile.
You conserve energy so dutiful
to stay delicate, fresh and beautiful,
a butterfly with a great profile.
Graceful, you handle yourself very light,
your wings brilliant, like colorful flowers,
quickly hiding at first sign of showers,
paper-thin stained glass in flickering flight.
After long day you must stop at sundown
with the disappearing sun’s golden rays
shining low, signaling time-up for plays.
For butterflies flying, comes a rest down.
The day is for your glory, not the night,
for the fields with flowers you need to view.
I shall wait for daybreak after the dew,
a warming sun and your spirited flight.
Marcel Toussaint © 2014
