Butterfly with wings of dew
Flickering here and there
Even when you are still
Your wings beat
Your flight is erratic
Never smoothly done
You work so hard it seems
Trembling on the air
To the left and right
In fits and spurts
Landing a hanging grip
On a flower
Your wings breathing
Up down, together apart
Then off to the next beauty
Another drink and shaky flight
Across the blooming field
Over the crest of the hill
And gone from sight.