“The Butterfly” (An original poem)

We met on the trail,

The old lady and I,

There was a cool, gentle breeze

As she admired

A beautiful butterfly.


“So peaceful,” she said, “I love it out here.”

“So free,” I said, and we drew near

To take a closer look

At the butterfly.


The sky was so clear

With clouds gently

Floating way up high.


Here we stood

This old lady and I,

Totally enthralled with this

Delicate butterfly

That had brought us together

On a warm September day.

We may not have spoken

Any other way.


We gazed and marveled

A few seconds longer,

The old lady and I.

Then she went her way,

And I went mine.


Life is uncertain and crazy,

A complete mystery at times.

Even when one’s family

May be so full of pride

That we don’t speak anymore,

Not even a “hi.”


But God sent a reminder

That I matter,

And I’m the “apple of His eye”

When an old lady spoke to me

Through a late summer

Butterfly. (c)


Hope to see you out on the roads or trails,




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