E. June Mathews
On Wings Of A Butterfly
The day awoke to flurry of sounds
That swirled about as early snow.
I watched the glyphs that piqued my mind
And penned a poem's embryo.
I gathered up the whisper of words
And made intriguing gay bouquet
But, have a cherry blossom show
That's prone to quickly fly away.
Elusive words that make our poems
Are fragile loans from him above
That ride the wings of butterflies
And signify a gift of love.