Butterfly Baby
Breezes rock the park - a soft sway of sun.
They are rosebud-faced, floral lace-swaddled,
sun-smiley; rapt eyes watching butterflies.
Their fingers dance in air like butterflies.
They are plump peaches ripening in sun -
sweetest fruits of parent care, love-swaddled.
Little one, I think of you, heart-swaddled
but free to fly soul skies with butterflies;
rising in my mind each day like the sun.
Your soul flits with sun-swaddled butterflies.
in memory
Copyright © Charlotte Puddifoot | Year Posted 2023
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