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Laying her head on a stone she sang with a voice undulated with joy 
taking summer and me by surprise with a dolce voce all sweet n' high 

like a million butterflies 
giving up their sighs 
I watched her in the middle of a throng close to a water fountain 
"Just a little longer I can stay" she vowed to the quiet saints above 
but then when her time was up she lay on the rock and sang a tad more 
She reminded me of another young girl I once knew, who lived upstairs 
with a Spanish mother who kept her on a leash. One day she ran away 
to park Miron were the quarry boulders were high and solid . There she sang 
 
like a million butterflies 
giving up their sighs 
until the sun went down and then oh what precious cost she did pay 
One day she married a blacksmith called Roger Stone. He took her to 
Italy and kept her behind closed doors. So jealous was he of her great 
beauty and talent that he forbid her to ever leave the house. She sang
alone by a window until the wild horses came and galloped her away,  

like a million butterflies 
giving up their sighs 

she sang, until the day she died. 

March 3, 2020

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