I remember the day the Monarchs held court on Cupsaw Beach
And filled the air with tangerine profusion
As they soared and danced with natural choreography.
There used to be butterflies in New Jersey.
They haven’t left completely,
But I see fewer every year
And miss their lilting frivolity, color and grace.
Today, I strolled a lane in South Carolina,
And was gifted with more species than I know,
The sum greater than I’ve seen in years.
Praise God, they simply filled my heart with joy
As they danced with gay abandon among the wildflowers.
They flitted against the sky with petal-soft wings
As resplendent in hew as the blooms
They landed momentarily upon, then sprang
Into fanciful Fantasia pirouettes.