The Butterfly and the Rose

by George Albert Leddy

The Butterfly lit on the Rose one day,

And in butterfly talk I heard him say:

“You’re a beautiful thing, I can’t deny;

But neery a bit more fair than I.

You have a fragrance, rare and sweet;

Your petal form are most complete.

You are a treasure, rich and rare;

When you adorn My Lady’s hair.

“Brilliant colors adorn your bed:

White and yellow, crimson and red;

Background of green decked with diamonds of dew;

To set out your colors, and brighten their hue.

You bring joy to the Bride on the day she is wed;

Lighten the sorrow when they bury their dead.

You brighten the Church, the Home, and the School;

But underneath all are your thorns, sharp and cruel.

“Now me, I am proud, and I feel, I’m as fine;

Though they don’t honor me, same as you.

But you’ll find, if you look, that I’m really streamlined;

And colors a real brilliant hue.

My wings are as light as the Thistles’ soft down;

As I float on the warm summer’s breeze.

I don’t have to stay in the same place all day;

I’m as free as the Birds and the Bees!”

Then a voice I can hear; it is soft, low and clear:

“Don’t be jealous of me, Butterfly.

I am proud as you say, and I’m happy today;

But tomorrow, I wither and die.

Why the silver and gold, that your wings do unfold;

Has brought joy to my short summer days.

So stay close to me here, promise always be near;

And bring me sweet joys, with your ways.”

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