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Apr 2016
Late one evening on a stroll
I was feeling mighty droll
I came to the big open meadow
And decided to sit down and mellow

There was nothing but grass for miles to see
Nothing at all but this one tiny bee
He looked in a great hurry
He's wing's buzzed with a mighty flurry

So me being me
I decided to fallow and see
He ziged and he zaged
I tried hard not to lag
At the top of a small hill crest
Is when I seen all the rest

On one side the bees, the other side the butterflies
And right in the middle their prize

It was the only one left
Frost had taken all the rest
It was tattered and torn
But it's beauty none could scorn
For it had stood times test
It had been stronger than the rest

It had been pearly white
Such a beautifully gourges sight
Now a dingy gray
It's nectar still as sweet as that very first day

And that's what started the war
That one little flower is what they where all here for
The big strong bees
Thought they could bring the butterflies to their knees
The fragile brightly painted butterflies
Behind their backs had a big surprise

The bees flew in first, stingers at the ready
Their stingers polished and sharp, flight was steady
The butterflies spread wide their colored wings
Hiding behind them their evil means

The first bee to the flower was shot down
I watched it spiral and hit the ground
That was it, all out war
All those flying fighting insects shook me the core

The bees had brought knifes to the butterflies gun battle
All I could hear was buzzing and tiny gun fire crackle
The air was a sea of colorful wings
And the yellow and black with the wings that sings

The bees were out powered
With the guns the butterflies advanced on the flower
The bodies of bees soon littered the ground
And when it was all over, it was sad what was found

The poor flower had been beaten down
It was laying with the dead bees on the ground
The butterflies realized the war had been for naught
For neither side would get what they want

But the butterflies had tasted power
They forgot about that little flower
So if in your town the bees are despairing
Then know the butterfly revolution is nearing
Pauline Morris
Written by
Pauline Morris  51/F/Southern Illinois
(51/F/Southern Illinois)   
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