Butterfly

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Butterfly

A Sonnet

O thou flying flower or painted leaf
A restless flitting honey thief!
For what purpose did He make
Thy beauty patterned flying silk?

Adorning our lives for a brief time
Thou dost brighten our worst clime.
Thou dost perch on precipice of the flower 
A tiny lord upon thy own beauty tower!

What wispy mood of Dreamer reclining 
Has scripted thy lone poignant pining?
Dost thou meet Him upon thy ways,
By garden and bower and solitary days?

If thou shouldst find Him lurking about 
Do kindly fly by and give me a shout!