The Butterfly's Dance

In meadows green, where sunshine streams, And sleepy daisies share their dreams, A world of color starts to bloom, Dispelling shadows, chasing gloom.

A butterfly, a painted sprite, With wings of orange, blue, and white, Flutters gently, soft and low, A dancing dream for all to know.

The flowers wake, in vibrant hues, Red poppies, gentle morning blues, They sway and nod, a fragrant band, As breezes ripple through the land.

The wind arrives, a playful guest, Who whispers secrets to the west, It dances with the butterfly, Beneath the clear and azure sky.

The wind blows easy, light and free, The butterfly, in joyful glee, Twirls and dips, a vibrant blur, A living rainbow, that's for sure!

Across the petals, soft and bright, It leads the wind in sheer delight, The flowers sway, in rhythmic beat, A tiny orchestra, bittersweet.

And as the sun begins to set, A golden glow, we won't forget, The butterfly, its dance complete, Is dancing still, oh so sweet!