Merry Monarchs Poem by gershon hepner

With sexual frenzy monarchs mate,
to lepidopterists oblivious,
and in the northern milkweed wait
and linger, lovingly lascivious.
Gyrating, each one is a jewel
that flutters winsome wings to fan
its partner, causing it to drool,
while fertilizing eggs that can
with metamorphosis become
like them, young monarchs that are merry
and, glowing orange, never glum,
sport colorful in ranks they serry,
till chilled by frissons of the fall
to firs of Oyamel they fly,
with joe-pye weed to feed them all
as high in panoplies they lie,
remaining celibate till spring,
when flying millions per acre,
nomadic wonders on the wing,
the monarchs mate and meet their maker.


12.9/01