The Question Poem by Steve Howard

My child asked a question long ago.
I had no answer, did not know.
"Where are butterflies to sleep at night,
when the sun has set, and the moon is bright.
Do they dream within the closing flower,
or find welcome in the faeries bower.
Do they nestle with the drowsy trees,
or slumber on the midnight breeze? ".
Now after many years have passed,
I still muse upon the question asked.
"Where are butterflies to sleep at night,
when the sun has set, and the moon is bright? ".
I need no answers, no surprise.
Sometimes it's sweet to just surmise,
and see things through a child's eyes.