children! this is me, Onomatopoeia! I never surprise the waiting eyes; I only fall into the echoing ears. Children! I patter in the ground, and on the roof around. children! I do buzz when the bees fly to and fro, over the trees. children! I sing something sweet when the birds play upon the flute. children! I rhyme in the meadows when the crickets chant under the bushes. Children! I am Onomatompoeia, the sound, the chime, the melody, all like me, I am a flapping butterfly.