The caterpillar
Is fatter, stiller
Than a lazy hobbit after tea
It's slowly munching
On leaves it's crunching
Slowly, surely, slow as slow can be
So soft and hairy
And colours varied
Writhing, wriggling, strangely all around
With heart still beating
It keeps on eating
Chewing on the plants with scarce a sound
A dessert of clover
Its feast's now over
Stomach fully than a hobbit's stores
It stops its creeping
And now it's sleeping
Caterpillar's gone for ever more
But there's no weeping
For whilst its sleeping
Dreams are formed of freedom in the sky
From deepest slumber
A thing of wonder
Flies away a lovely Butterfly
