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One day,
A fair day, indeed,
A butterfly became aware.
Aware of it's wings,
It's now spindly legs,
And the fact that
It lay in an old, crusty cocoon.

With a push
And a wiggle,
It freed itself,
Only to discover
That it was a beautiful creature.
It's wings, a beautiful array of colour.
It's body, so light,
Never to bend a blade of grass.

With great pride,
Up it flew to show the world
What it had to offer.
Up and away from the little boy
Who insisted it belonged to him.
Up and away from the little girl
Who thought something so beautiful must be hers.
Up and away from the scientist
Who thought he had discovered a new species.

Up and into a spiders web.
This network of silver twine,
So fine and delicate
Refused to release the proud butterfly.
As it fought, it called the spider
Who promptly wrapped the butterfly
Into a cocoon and kept it for dinner.

As it lay in the cocoon,
The butterfly did not bemoan it's faith.
It did not think itself too proud,
Nor himself too narcissistic.
It lay in the cocoon
And admired it's softness
Compared to it's last cocoon.
It marveled at it's life,
Relishing the memories
Of sweet nectar
And warm sunshine.

As the spider sat to dine,
The butterfly did not beg, whisper nor cry,
But wished the spider
Bon Appetit and added,
"I hope I taste alright."