Harpsichord melodies sing
Upon a butterflies wings
As from flower to medow it now flies
Whilst the summer skies look down

Darting on the winds of time
Sailing gliding flying high
Stopping by the poppy so red
Resting wing's on the flower bed

Onto the next on a song from the trees
Weeping willows bend with ease
Natures brook babbles along
And still she flies with wings of love

And when the moon appears high at dusk
Stillness reaches out to all
Rest little butterfly tired and spent
For the land will be yours when day break falls