These pictures are of a butterfly found dead outside my office gym. At first glance I thought it was perhaps some fine lady’s brooch, but on closer examination recognised the deceased. Brought her home and thought it best to give her a suitable “immortalisation”.
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Like A Feather... 
“A breezy coruscation, jocund” indeed!Nice captions. The pictures of the butterfly are even better.Wish you hadn’t informed us that it was dead. The stain of sadness among the other bright colours could have been averted.Wish you had captured live butterflies in various moments in your camera; here, what I see is contrived, brought to that interesting position by your intent and fingers. Nature in all its freedom whose praise you sing through your poetic words would hold greater captivation to me than this.Anyway, in itself it is beautiful and the words freeflowing and just right..
The very beauty is in the fact that it is dead. I wonder why some people cannot accept an ounce of sadness in life.