Butterfly

April 4, 2010
By Anonymous

It flies, free in the open air
Drifting, fluttering, floating away
It does not stop to think or judge
It simply goes away
Its very colors are breathtaking
Like having a field of daisies and a single red rose
Splashes of orange and blue and black
It landed on a flower, but it rose
Gently, ever so gently, resting on a branch
Effortlessly gliding through the sea of blue
Whatever it does is astonishing
It kept on flying even as the breeze blew
Back and forth it searches around
For everything, for nothing
Beauty in the littlest of creatures
And it goes off and just flies away


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