Children

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Her life mundane
And oh so slow
From whence she came
And where’d she go

A hundred feet
On bark does crawl
Eating green
One and all

Storing up
Getting fat
Hiding from
The local cat

Sadness seems
To be her stay
Longing for
That glorious day

Beginning to change
It seems so long
Waiting for
Her own dear song

An early chill
On wind does blow
She looks for it
A place to grow

A sheltered oak
She picks a place
Spins a home
Hides her face

Cold sets in
Rain drops fall
A metamorphosis
Changes all

She sleeps so well
Through each day
Dreaming of
A time to play

And soon enough
The time at hand
She burst forth
To view the land

Her vision now
Much more she sees
Her wings they dry
Caress the breeze

Her body now
No more a slug
No longer called
A crawling bug

She spreads her wings
Great joy she feels
Colors flash
Within she squeals

She lifts off
On wings does fly
Proudly called
A buttterfly

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