I know a special tree Loved by the butterfly,
A cloud of wings I see As beauty flutters by. Some wings are blue on black
And others yellow white;
No pretty colours lack
In this delightful sight.
For several days they fly flashing fantasy.
I know that by and by Their charm no more I'll see.
But eggs left row on row Let caterpillars hatch. Then chrysalises grow,
A wonder hard to match;
For grubs within transform,
And butterflies anew Emerge to grace the dawn
And drink the morning dew.
And if their special trees
You too should hap to spy,
Be their protectors please,
That butterflies may fly.