While resting by the blooming blossoms, <br />I happened to see a butterfly flutter by. <br />With fire- red wings added with a black tinge, <br />Above the placid plants it flew high. <br /> <br />The winged colours leapt from blossom to blossom <br />With each splendid leap better than the last. <br />An audience stopped to watch and listen <br />To the admiring silence the tiny angel’s wings cast. <br /> <br />As an added touch to an already perfect painting, <br />The butterfly danced among the dazzling flowers. <br />With its glory, the insect conquered a multitude - <br />Me, children, the violet sky and the flowers – its dear lovers. <br /> <br />Smiles were spread on infant faces <br />As the colours showcased their wizardry. <br />But who knew that grief would replace joy <br />And that the insect would meet its tragedy? <br /> <br />The tiny thing, when celebrating dance, <br />Fell directly into a spider’s food tray. <br />Not considering the helpless moans and cries, <br />The spider hurried towards its prey. <br /> <br />Shocking silence replaced the admiring silence. <br />Looks of horror replaced the looks of wonder. <br />But they knew it was helpless now, <br />For only God can stop Death – the hunter. <br /> <br />The crowd dispersed with heads bent <br />And the flowers were left desolate and bare. <br />Glory is surely short-lived and not immortal <br />And a fall is brought to many a great, with exceptions rare.<br /><br />Rex Mathew Mathew<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-butterfly-23/
