My Gardening Angel

I thought I saw an angel When I looked up into the sky. But at closer observation, It was a butterfly.

"How are you?" asked the Monarch, "isn't it a lovely day? I just returned from Mexico Where I spent my winter's stay."

"I'm fine, thank you," I responded. "It's a great day to be alive. Welcome back to my garden. Flowers need pollen to survive."

"I see you have my favorites: Milkweeds and asters too. I'll gladly care for all of them, Since this is what I was born to do."

The Monarch, then, fluttered to and fro Like a ballet dancer in flight. Merrily pollinating other plants Most familiar to its sight.

I watched with utter amazement As it did God's work with gifted ease. Helping flowers to reproduce themselves With the aid of a springtime breeze.

"You know," the butterfly said to me, "I would not be here with you today If the air about were not pure to breathe, And free of deadly toxic spray."

"Yes, I know," I told the butterfly, "Such odors make you ill. You'll find no offensive spraying here. And I promise you, you never will."

Its duties fulfilled, my colorful friend, The angelic Monarch then winged good-bye To seek another flower garden In need of its talent, as just was I.
Poem by Michael J. Smajda, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania - 1997