The Monarchs

The Monarchs

Enter the monarchs of the northern line

Flow into the southern towns like mine

They come quick and striking to copulate

To insure the next generation is not too late

Flutter, Flutter, Flowing by

I stand and wonder as to why?

I denounce the science of it all

I found talk of migration pattern rather dull

They come oh yes they do

In droves by the dozen sometimes two

They rest their wings upon the foliage

They are weary from their voyage

In the southern Texas sun they go

What possesses them I do not know?

Days pass they fall from the sky

Such short lived lives now they die

The sky once lit a light by their orange glory

Now they light the floor rather gory

Oh how I miss their spirited flight

How they flew with all their might

But do not worry friend

I doubt the universe would permit the end

For if you care to let your gaze wander

You’ll find twelve eggs in the shrub yonder

Twelve beads rather a pale yellow

Situated on the leaves rather mellow

The fruits of the passionate flight