Butterfly Etchings
he wandered through my room
in his subtle violet flushed body
an orchid robed monk
with his face upturned towards
the vaulted heavens
contemplating the exalted grandeur
of God
lost in unknown realms
the sound of Om and Ave Maria
lingered from our morning meditation
who was this air brushed creature
alighting on the threshold
of my solitude
Ron
budd