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On my walk today

I happened to see

a butterfly

named Glitherby.

She looked so sad

I stopped a while

to see if I

could make her smile.



In her butterfly way

she cried as she said,

‘They call me a freak.

They want me dead!

My curse is to live

while they wish I would die.

My wings feel so heavy

I hardly dare fly.’



‘Oh Glitherby,’ said I

‘please listen to me.

You’re no freak, you’re unique!

There’s no other like you!

No other has wings

of different hues.

You’re simply so special,

they’re jealous of you!’


‘Your right wing’s all warm

in reds, purples, browns

Your left wing’s all peaceful

in blues, silver, white.

To me you’re amazing,

a one off, a star!

Your beautiful Glitherby!

Please see you are!’



In her butterfly way

she smiled as she said,

‘Perhaps I will fly,

though they wish me dead.

I’ll fly right up high

where the sunshine can glow

on my beautiful wings.

Let their differences show!’



And with that she lifted

those mismatched wings

of reds, purples, browns

and blues, silver, white.

She soared up so high

that I soon lost sight,

for I covered my eyes,

as the sun was so bright.

So I couldn’t see her

as she sang to me,

‘Thank you for showing

my beauty to me,

for my own eyes were tearful

and would not see.’

“My pleasure,’ I whispered.

‘Fly high Glitherby!’