They flutter about so gracefully,
In colors bright, in symmetry.
Rarely still for even a beat,
Never mastering straight flight's feat.
Delicate flowers with wings that soar,
Rising gently, drifting evermore.
They enchant us, beckon us near,
Flitting from stem to stem, so dear.
Their wings catch sunlight, spark and gleam,
A fleeting rainbow, a living dream.
Soft whispers of motion, gentle and light,
They turn the ordinary into sheer delight.
Through fields and gardens they wander free,
Dancing on breezes for all to see.
A joyful spirit in every flight,
Bringing fleeting wonder, pure and bright.
Very cute poem. You have a fair observation on butterflies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I agree with CRClark the self-propelled flowers that fly is great imagery