Your tender touch,
that gentle kiss,
The way you dance,
that's what I'll miss.
For summer's gone,
and so have you,
along with precious flowers too.
Oh butterfly
it's time to go,
Now autumns here the leaves will blow,
upon the garden that we shared,
No finer beauty can compare,
to you upon a summer's day,
I'll think of you when skies are grey.
Jayne Louise Davies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem