Sidi J. Mahtrow

The Yellow Butterfly

The butterfly rested on the ground
Near the spot of water it had found
A place where a refreshing bit
Of moisture would surely be
Necessary for this flight of fantasy
A flight over many miles
Of deserts, mountains, and steamy tracks
To be passed beneath it on its way
For a date with others in Nature's sway.

With a flutter of the wings
A pumping action begins
That moves the refreshing dip
To recharge the butterfly for the trip.
Then once again the process begins
With a drum roll of spreading wings
The coiled proboscis carefully put in place
And six legs touching earth in a final embrace,
Waiting for a gentle breeze
To lift him above the trees
And off to places yet unknown
The yellow butterfly goes alone.