I Dreamed a Butterfly
I dreamed a butterfly in golden days
when buttercups lay in the fields ablaze.
It fluttered to my cheek, sweet love to bring.
My heart was wont to burst and wont to sing.
In breath of morn was scent of bluebell sprays.
On blossomed blankets of the fields we’d laze,
and into one another’s eyes we’d gaze,
my love and I, as April had her fling.
I dreamed a butterfly.
Our bliss was as the spring, a fleeting phase,
and brief’s the beauty of young lovers’ craze.
As cruelly as a wasp, he left a sting -
and all the lovely plans we made took wing,
leaving mere memories of golden days.
I dreamed a butterfly.
2/21/13
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
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