Wednesday, July 05, 2006

IX - The Butterfly Windblown.



The Butterfly Windblown


Her touch is light,
Her heart is white,
She flits among the flowers;

If, by chance,
She comes to dance
It drives away the showers.

She gives us love
From skies above
And happiness to share;

Once, for a laugh,
She came to bath
And danced upon my hair.

She didn’t stay
But flew away
Continuing to roam;

That lady fair
Who skips the air:
The butterfly, windblown.
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© J Cosmo Newbery
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7 comments:

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  3. Since nea beat me to using the word "precious", I will say that it is most sweet. Thank you!

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  4. As a poem, it does seem to flit a bit.

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  5. Perfect, Cosmo. As always.

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