Through the narrow space between the leaves,
A tiny yellow butterfly can be seen
Dancing, flowing here and there casually
In the forest made up of golden light and trees.
She ain’t like a busy worker as bees,
But enjoys herself playfully, so care-free -
An innocent act that arouses common jealousy
Of abundant leaves that overlook everything beneath.
Some of them have grown quite impatient, ready
To take the advantage of the passing breeze.
So they start rustling, whirling, falling with joy,
To imitate that graceful dancer in perfect togetherness,
Till they all hit the ground, as fast as can be,
And leave that lonely dancer, still dancing casually.
this was something i wrote in a park, a couple of months ago.