Butterfly where might you land
On top of the Zinnia
Or in the palm of my hand
Will you come to the garden?
We planted just for you
Drinking sweet nectar
Dancing the way you do
There are all your favorite flowers
We’ll watch you for hours
‘til the sun goes down
When you are not to be found
These butterflies didn’t come for flowers. They have come for the sap seeping from a wounded Oak in my yard.

Keeper of dogkisses
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