Butterflies
BUTTERFLIES
I could have been the one to make you see,
had not your heart been closed to my advance!
Had not your eyes been turned away from me,
and if you’d only given me one chance;
if you had only heard the cries of pain,
each time you turned away, or dropped your eyes,
each wound was deep, and left its blood soaked stain,
but never stopped the birth of butter?ies
within this life, whenever you were there,
I’d never have to see you, they would know,
and challenge me to things my heart would dare,
from deep within; but I could never go
right up to you! My knees would fail--but fast!
and you would laugh--and I would breathe my last.
© ron wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa theDoylestown Poet
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