The Butterfly and the Bee

This came out on a quiet Sunday afternoon at the behest of my two little girls. They supplied the words and the scene while I mashed it all together. Quite contrived, but such a fun exercise.

On a bright and sunny morning,
Where the grass grows wild and green,
And the colors of the rainbow
Wash all the flowers clean,

The butterfly came fluttering,
And sat her light self down
Upon a black-eyed Susan’s
Crisp and golden crown;

And was about to sample
The nectar, filling, sweet,
When, overhead, she heard the buzz
Of interrupting feet.

“My kindest salutations,
To you my fluttering friend,
I come with hope to partake of
This black-eyed Susan blend.”

The butterfly turned to him,
Said with a quick Ahem,
“A hundred others sway here now,