THE BUTTERFLY
I hold you at last in my hand, Exquisite child of the air. Can I ever understand How you grew to be so fair? You came to my linden tree To taste its delicious sweet. I sitting there in the shadow and shine Playing around its feet. Now I hold you fast in my hand, You marvellous butterfly, Till you help me to understand The eternal mystery. From that creeping tiling in the dust To this shining blilss in the blue! God give me courage to trust I can break my chrysalis too! —ALICE PALMER.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270622.2.158.14
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 77, 22 June 1927, Page 14
Word Count
97THE BUTTERFLY Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 77, 22 June 1927, Page 14
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