Oh . . . imagine, just imagine,
if butterflies could sing,
ribbons of song
trailing along
the gentle zephyrs
of spring.

Imagine if their voices
painted the morning skies,
and we could see
each note and key
beautifully blend
before our eyes.

Can you just imagine
butterfly voices ring,
in songs of grace,
writ in gilded lace,
on each delicate
gossamer wing.

Crystal R. Cook