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.