With trusting innocence we've played
with nets and jars amid a field
of muted rustling blooms that yield
Their subtle breaths of perfumed air
where milkweed monarch's foraged there.
They were the prize and preference
of youth and trusting innocence.
Inexpertness with nets gave flight
elusiveness till next alight
on efflorescence's afield
Sedulity kept our eyes peeled
on tawny-orange and black, large wings
in hopes we would be capturing
these lovely regal butterflies
with gauzy wings and very spry.
Comments about this poem (Monarchs by Albert Ahearn )
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