Fleetings

Fleetings are too faint, too few, and so far between. Fleeting is a butterfly alighted with folded wings. The glimpse of love a flimsy kiss on cheek brings. Dewdrops left on leaves by early morning mist. Echoes faint and feeble that callers often missed. The glint of sunbeams quivering on a rippled lake. The sunrise briefly peaking through clouds at day-break. The flit of candle flames brushed by secret hushed remarks, whispered quietly, to quell the spell of tell-tale larks. Fleetings are footnotes, too often skipped, when skip-reading, from your scripts!