Blue Butterfly
Baby butterflies floating down
From the clear-as-can-be
Aquamarine sea.
As the waters reflect the skies, we are not bound.
By day to night and by night to day
We can fly with pride
And can glide like light,
Over the rocks and past the bay.
As one dream mimicks another,
A butterfly's wings reflects her path, ontop the water.
8-23-12
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