My sweetest butterfly
twas spring meeting night,
whilst silences dead air.
where moon shone no brighter keep
as fair a wind found candles burning-fury laying it to rest.
Mornings fair glances met daydreaming of you,
as fresh air to my soul.
Amidst soul warming sunshine
and breakfast in my belly.
Flower seeds aroma surrounding the two of us-
I held your hands in the garden-
forever looking into your eyes.
twas you then who garden my hands with all of your care
My sweetest butterfly of whom I never seize to dream.
Till thus day departs my claim
and night reclaims sleep onto my eyes.
twas light breezes solace dreaming of you again.
and not the once my heart does ever stop-
to dream of you again.
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