Colors of the Butterflies

Bright colors
splash their wings
like a toddler drawing—a young Picasso

They’re sipping sweet nectar
as nourishment
from deep maroon Cosmos blooms

They flap their wings effortlessly
flying into cotton candy clouds
while dazzling sunrays beam down—staircases to the heavens

A magnificent sight, it is
I wish I could soar as well
swirling, diving, looping, exhilarating rushes of freedom and joy

And I observe
the stunning patterns arrayed
on a Painted Lady—ebony black, snowy white, tipped with buffy orange

Her wings just may be
delicately painted
by the great Monet himself—godliness precision

Then the sky turns an exquisite powder blue
reflecting light upon the already alluring
colors of the butterflies

Colors of the butterflies . . .
colors . . .
colors . . .