THE INSECT

There's an insect on my window

And it's looking straight at me

I don't know if it's ant or moth

or just a honey bee

It's beady eyes are watching

But I don't know what, for sure

The wings are flapping up and down

And has six legs, maybe more

I wonder if he's dangerous

With poison in his bite

Or only a lonely insect

Just resting from his flight

The colours of his body

Are cream and darkest brown

And wings of palest purple

Capped off with a golden crown

This tiny little creature

May be a relic from the past

His body pushing forward

And his wings are moving fast

He is ready for his takeoff

He's been rested for a while

Then as he leaves the window

I am sure he gives a smile.