Beauty At The Pond.

In between the rainkissed trees,
I walked along, beneath the ceiling of leaves.

I came to a clearing and noticed a pond,
and of the image there, my heart grew fond.

An angel sat, paddling her feet,
sitting on a log, she had made her seat.

She smiled at the water as she saw her reflection,
for the beauty around her, had drawn her affection.

Her wings were big, her gown was long,
all around, the birds sang a song.

Attracting many creatures with her glowing bright light,
until the sun went away and she flew off at night.

The Butterfly Song

There once was a butterfly with only one wing
though unable to fly, she knew she could sing.

She sang when happy, she sang when sad,
she sang through times when things seemed bad.

Everyone stopped to listen to the voice,
they could not walk on, the beauty gave them no choice.

She sang of the flowers and sang of the bees.
She sang of the leaves in the beautiful trees.

This breath taking song, rang out, through fields far and near
and all came to listen from Foxes to Deer.

 She never stopped singing for she felt she could fly
when she sang from her heart and looked to the sky.

                                                                                                by Paul Broughall