A Butterfly Love

A butterfly love,

Changing and evolving,

Is one so difficult to bear,

For every time I dream about

The way our lips might touch,

I quiver to remember that

I still do only dream;

But maybe when your hand

Lies in mine,

I’ll remember the scene

That drifted itself around my head:

A butterfly, a tree,

The flower-name I gave myself,

You, my love, the seed

Of justice and of truth,

The virtue that I’d missed,

For when I dreamt,

I seemed to forget that

We’d never really kissed;

For time is tragedy enough,

But time does sometimes bless

A heart that waits

And is moulded so,

By a love that’s never fixed.

The End

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