HALO OF BUTTERFLIES:

She was from humble birth & unfortunate face,

Told by one & all to keep quiet & stay in her place,

She was whipped by tongues with barb-wired words,

But she only heard the singing from kind beaked birds.

She was lashed by people, who never loved & never cared,

She was pointed at by all folk, who would just stop & stare,

She spent her life dodging society & their cold eyed whips,

But she only wore a smile of roses, upon her young pink lips.

She was bent double by life´s heavy & ugly harsh drudgings,

She was sorely daubed, with man´s hard bruised smudgings,

She was stung with barbed words, far worse than from bees,

But upon her skin, she only felt whispers of the gentle breeze.

There´s no crown of thorns & no pain of man´s hate spinning,

That would prevent her being happy, or stop her ever winning,

And while all in their sad minds, their plots of evil they devised,

Proudly upon her head, she wore a halo of joyful butterflies.