The Butterfly
You pass as a dream, delicately dancing
On the fingertips of my need
You flit beyond the reach of my hands
That would beseech and capture
For a blessed moment your fleeting rapture!
I behold your fragile perfection
And wonder at your compelled
And silent exile within the cocoon
Where you surrender and yield
To Nature's determined loom
But oh, what sweet pleasure
To dance upon the scented bloom
And sip at Life's treasure
Beneath a flaxen moon!
Copyright © Sheila Sacks | Year Posted 2016
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