A butterfly lit on an old oak tree,
Age and beauty and tranquility.
The sun shone down an approving smile,
As the wind lay still and silent awhile.
And sparrows and robins
watched their nests,
And all of nature knew no rest.

For the warm and calm
of a summer's day
Was much too precious to fritter away.
So, the old oak tree stood mighty and tall.
A pillar, a column, a towering Hall.
The flowers woke shyly,
spreading their arms.
Trying vainly to reach with those arms.
They kept on straining to hold the sky,
To touch the clouds that passed them by.

The grass was greener that summer day.
The sky was bluer, knew no gray.
The wind was silent above the land.
The sun was brighter upon my hand.
My thoughts broke warm
in that sea within.
They smiled with love and slept again.

The day was better for happiness.
The hour was nicer for peace, no less.

By Linda A. Copp ©