A BUTTERFLY'S EYES Multi-colored velvet pedals surrounding all sides. Fluttering, gliding, a spectacle providing onlookers with a moment's joy- collide. Summertime flowered fields abiding, while down the country roads you're riding on bikes, in cars, or casually strolling- up and down, the hills are rolling. You smell the sweetened perfumed breeze, and though you may, I cannot sneeze, but instead, I labor on, licking the lilies, grazing the daisies, zooming the blooms like crazy. I'm a butterfly, and through my eyes the world would seem a fantastic surprise, surpassing your imagination I'd surmise, in color, texture, not to mention it's size. The view is quite panoramic, dynamically hued, though my purpose and journey, unmisconstrued. I've known my direction since before wings live sprouted which, unlike wingless humans, I've never doubted. I'm a butterfly, and fly I must, collecting nectar in flowered sectors- pollinating, procreating, regenerating or bust! I'm a butterfly, and in your eyes, I am a miniature rainbow in motion. I'm a butterfly, and this is how I'd feel, if, in fact, butterflies could feel emotion.