Friday, February 4, 2011


Once upon a Buttercup,
a Butterfly flew by
and supped it up.
now wherefore did
that Butterfly have
permission to sup my cup.
surely not from me.
Each morning I looked
forward to sup myself
from my fresh-filled
cup of Butter
From my golden
No bad mannered
Butterfly has the right
To rob me of my
Luscious gift of butter
from my personal
golden floral bowl.
Now this plaint of mine
To the top I shall take.
and valid plea I shall make.
Surely Lady Mother will
rule in mine favor
because, she knows
how I do savor,
her daily gift of
butter for my toast,
And to the her
I give her boast.
And so, naughty Butterfly
Go find your own cup
of sweet butter ,
to sup up.
By mine buttercup
no more flutter.

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