Jonathan Platt


Butterfly: The Unbridled Flower


A small girl entered my bower-
Through the old, weathered gate she crept,
Wandering quietly among the flowers
With cautious little thief-sneaking steps.

Smiling, she knelt to a budding wonder-
Compared to this prize, the others were wan.
Then wept as she realized her blunder,
When the flower, to the yonder, fluttered gone.

Submitted: Sunday, December 09, 2012
Edited: Monday, December 31, 2012

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