In gardens where the sunlight weaves,
The butterflies dance on gentle breeze,
With wings that paint the skies anew,
They whisper tales in hues so true.

Among the blossoms, soft and bright,
They flutter, casting dreams in flight,
Their journey through the fragrant air,
A silent song beyond compare.

Each fragile wing, a story told,
Of fleeting beauty, brave and bold,
In every color, light, and shade,
A fleeting grace that cannot fade.

In their brief dance, we find a trace,
Of nature’s art, a fleeting grace,
A gentle reminder of life’s brief sway,
In the butterflies’ realm, we find our way.