The Butterfly House
There lies betwixt the thoughts that overrun my hearth of dreams,
And all vocabulary voiced from me with honey flow,
A certain garden with plethoras of palatial beams
Throughout. And filled with flowers oh so white they seem to glow.
They are the only source of light
Within this place inside my soul.
But rest assured they shine so bright,
Sparks from the sun they must have stole.
I see obsidian walls engraved with dazzling diagram;
It tingles to the touch with crisp sensation cool as ice,
But yea, its frozen features serve your soul with an exam,
And in its center lies a Well; reflecting paradise.
It slowly slips a slender kiss
Upon my mind; specific spots.
This simple space serves one purpose:
A haven of united thoughts.
Now hark! Now hark! Beautiful minds! Shining majestically!
This lovely throne of butterflies with splash of colors deft
Compels you to recline and see this marvel magically,
While thoughts escape the flawless walls all through a single cleft.
Now tread upon your reveries,
Where beauty is your only spouse.
And hold on to these mysteries,
Here in the butterfly house.
Copyright © Gael Attal | Year Posted 2009
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