A Dead Butterfly Poem by Paula Glynn

Misfortune frowns down upon me,
A dead butterfly on the ground,
Its colourful wings,
Empty to the world.

Where this butterfly,
Once offered hope,
To a realm of broken dreams,
It now lies cold on the grass,
Dead, faded and alone.

Its confession is sealed,
Once alive and beautiful,
Flying with the breeze,
From flower-to-flower,
And plant-to-plant.

Eyes open wide,
Innocent to nature,
Working with nature,
Wings the colour of,
A kaleidoscope,
Beauty so natural.

This butterfly, dead,
But never forgotten,
Memories of others,
Of butterflies living the legacy,
Staying alive,
Summertime celebrated.

For summer has its colours,
An entire rainbow of colours,
With all the wonders of nature,
For this butterfly may be dead,
But others follow free,
For love is never lost.