The Beauterfly Never Dies

From the cold weather that ends in the mist of the drops of springs, tenderly warm and happy the beauterfly starts to rise. Beautiful colors in its wings shadow from the hot sun, my wife wakes up from a sleep when the beauterflies take the leap. The heat of the sun evaporates the water when they trill to drink, as the water on wife's hair they emerge to the unknown scene. Waiting for the next shadow of winter my wife and the beauterflies are waiting, to start the nest cycle of life tenderly mild and expetedly.