Summer Sprite

Gaily she flits from place to place

Seemingly without a care

Timidly, with grace she trips

Upon the summer air

Suitors rarely cross her path

in life's short sweet hours

As she daintily bestows

Fleeting favours on the flowers

A sprite of fragile beauty

Doomed so soon to die

Tender lover of the sunshine

Lovely butterfly.


Whakatane 1946

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