"I dreamt, I was a butterfly or was I, a butterfly dreaming . . ."
Crossing over into an enchanting land of dreams.
Where I met a delightful little girl named Jean.
As fascinating as she was I couldn't see her face.
Entranced by her butterfly wings she flew away without a trace.
The pool of water where she sat was from her falling tears.
Enraptured in thought of just being here.
When I awoke from this captivating dream.
Thing were different now then they seemed.
Teresa Skyles 07/08/11
Entered in Constance La France~a rambling poet~"Daydreams and dreams and dreams"contest.