Evelyn Judy Buehler

March 18, 1953 - Chicago

The Year of the Butterflies

Awakened to rise on silken wings,
The beauty of the evenings;
To colorfully swirl, all aflutter,
In their dance of chaos utter!

They came en masse on summer breeze;
In a mystery of mysteries.
Dizzying in scented golden heat;
Yellow above the fields of wheat!

This is the year that nothing dies;
This is the year of the butterflies.
All aglow the monarchs of the meadow,
And ever flitting in silver moonglow.

Destiny comes and won't be stayed;
This summer will never fade,
Like the memory of bittersweet June;
Like the flowers crammed in a room.

Whispering wings fill the air;
Never again sight so rare;
These are the days new hopes arise,
This is the year of the butterflies!
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