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.
Comments about this poem (Butterfly: The Unbridled Flower by Jonathan Platt )
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