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The Aurora male, wingtips like golden dawn
Peek out from the shadowy forest edge
Letting his wings flutter awake and yawn
Hoping he his chances enough has hedged

Is there enough big flower heads nearby
So far devoid of other females eggs
Is the soil deep, rich and suitably dry
Are there any quick hunters with eight legs

Wondering if it’s a warm enough day
If he’s chosen a path with enough light
For a female to at last fly his way
To him the meadow is luminous bright

The male awaits being picked by a queen
Dreams of a female in gold speckled green

©RedCat

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Writing another Sonnet has been on my list for April, and finally a topic seemed to fit the form.
Read other Sonnet’s by me here.

The orange tip is called Aurora butterfly in Swedish.

To…