Never pick a butterfly's wings
Pretty though they be.
Tiny dreams wrapped in gauze
Not to hold, but see.

They take these dreams upon their backs
Flit from flower to flower
Making nectar dreams and petal reams
'Till the dreaming hour.

Upon the child they come to rest
Sprinkling down their gift
The sleeping child, oft dost smile
As through bliss they sift.

But alas! oh wicked child,
when you these wings do take,
the fate you bring upon yourself!
'Tis better to awake!

For the shock and grief of pretty wings
taken from their owner
Is brought upon the guilty one
Not later, now, but sooner.

For roach will creep upon the head to give
A gentle dark reminder
That butterfly wings are not the things
You can keep as finder.

Gasp and awake, now lesson learnt
Hard though it was bought
Never pick a butterfly's wings
It will be you who will be caught.

Terror's grip and moonlight's bliss
But a flutter apart
It's wise to feel for other things
Butterflies are a start.