Top and bottom sonnet

On butterfly wings colors painted

Truth floating shades to eyes tainted

Fluttering hues and patterns imbue

Each a different moth they view

Some say black with shades of yellow

To another an orange patterned fellow

Some see lines where others see dots 

Where some view numbers others see spots

In flight flittering wings in play

On the ground reversed wings on display

Wind's illusion a spark in the air

Where all observers are right, both colors it does bear

Two different viewers that pursuers both see  

In flight or alight, both right, though they may disagree