Post by Mikepoet on Apr 9, 2004 19:33:28 GMT -5
She sighs closes her eyes,
she sees butterflies.
Colorful wings
she wants one to hold. .
What would it be like
to be a butterfly?
Viewing life’s beauty,
as beauty unfolds.
To sit on the pedal.
of a Lilac,
A vision gift,
from times of old.
A shining image
of gathered water.
Reflecting softly in a,
morning teardrops lobe.
Behind her eyes
she sees pictures.
A rainbows array
of colors and hues.
She mixes paint,
Till she’s content,
That the color she’s made
is just the right blue?
Then she mixes the
Color of a flower,
Purples and mauves
in a butterflies view.
And she paints the
Reflection of sunrise.
That the butterfly see’s
on the morning dew.
she sees butterflies.
Colorful wings
she wants one to hold. .
What would it be like
to be a butterfly?
Viewing life’s beauty,
as beauty unfolds.
To sit on the pedal.
of a Lilac,
A vision gift,
from times of old.
A shining image
of gathered water.
Reflecting softly in a,
morning teardrops lobe.
Behind her eyes
she sees pictures.
A rainbows array
of colors and hues.
She mixes paint,
Till she’s content,
That the color she’s made
is just the right blue?
Then she mixes the
Color of a flower,
Purples and mauves
in a butterflies view.
And she paints the
Reflection of sunrise.
That the butterfly see’s
on the morning dew.
