“Who am I?” asked the little butterfly from the early morning ray…
“You are warmth, my dear” replied the ray.
“Who am I?” asked the little butterfly from the flower.
“You are a blood sucker who sucks my blood to live on, you fool” replied the angry flower.
“Who am I?” asked the butterfly from the child, chasing to capture her.
“You are beauty, my darling. You are the colour of life. I want to own you”, said the eager, excited child.
“Who am I?” asked the butterfly from the Gardener.
“Oh you are the attraction of my garden. You are the grace”, exclaimed the Gardner.
“Who am I?” asked the tired, little butterfly from the coldness of night.
“You, actually, are No One, my love” said the piercing coldness of night.
The warmth of next early morning ray touched the little, dead butterfly and asked, “Who was she?”
- Autumn Butterflies (justimaginecrafts.typepad.com)
- My Son Loves Pink Butterflies (dawnraemiller.com)