When I started looking
At lovely butterflies,
I felt that very soon
I'd be Lepidopterally wise...
From Albatross to Zebra Blue
I thought it was a cinch
But the butterfly alphabet
Is killing me, inch by inch.
First came the Blues, and blues were what
These Lycaenids cast me into.
Even Grass Blues are Lesser and Tiny...
Pale and Dark forms, too!
Another colour, Yellow, this time,
Put my mind in further doubt.
Three-spotted, Spotless, Common, more....
I knew not what I was about.
The Rings put all my mathematics
And basic numbers to shame.
Alas, a Common Four-ring
And a Five-ring often look the same!
Brown was a colour I felt at ease with...
Until it was preceded by "Bush".
Trying to find out which one it was
Reduced my brain to mush.
Then came the procession
Of the scientific names;
The dry and wet-season forms,
The gentlemen, and the dames.
Under all this profusion
Of names and facts, I groan
The only butter fly I am sure of
Is when Amul or Vijaya is thrown!