The Blue Butterfly

I stood, lonely as a raindrop falling,

Ensnared by beauty’s gravity, spellbound.

Before me, rays of melted sun crown

These objects of my beguilement; flitting

From perfumed cluster to perfumed cluster.

Oh, what finery, the surges of golden wings!

Splendor surpassing courts of queens and kings.

Surely nothing compares with these that flutter.

When, behold the resounding azure! Debased,

Liquescent gold hardened to amber by bold-hued,

Poised wings, blue so brazen gold’s purged from view.

But should another come to take his place,

Will novel not likewise purloin this blue Majesty’s grandeur and pale his grace?

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