One day I saw a butterfly,
a pretty little thing.
It was one hot day in summer,
and the sun shone on her wings.
Adourned in reds and oranges,
she was a sight to see.
She landed on a blade of grass,
growing next to me.
She stayed there for a second,
basking in the sun.
Then spread her wings, and took her flight,
I watched her till she'd gone.
I sat a while and wondered,
where that pretty thing had gone.
Flying off into the breeze,
towards the sun that shone.
For the world it is her oyster,
and wherever she may fly.
I wish her happy travels,
and I bid her fond goodbye.
Heath Gunn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem