First draft...

[iwtwutyfem]

I wandered through life like a homeless butterfly,
from flower to flower looking for that familiar scent.
Content as a baby in a mothers arms,
till the perfect one I saw, on a lonely meadow,
under that big old oak tree.  You got enough sun
to keep you happy, blooming on cue to seasons past.
Happily happy, taking refuge, under the shadow of that big old oak tree.
I wanted a taste so indeed I took, so sweet the taste,
the purest of nectars I had stumbled upon.
Out of my cocoon I came, breaking through, to the warmth of flight,
until now, not knowing that landing was my bliss.
If I had my way, I’d flap my wings to rid that tree of the leaves you so comfort.
If only to see the true deep colors of the pedals you hide,
when you’re not blooming to seasons past.
But I’m just a butterfly…a beautiful simple butterfly, fighting
that big old oak tree, that you comfort, like a swarm of mites,
eating away at the pedals you hide from seasons present.

I've never written like this, but thanks to a great friend, I thought I'd give it a try,
damn, I forgot to eat dinner today.

-Jim