Poetry and such like.
There was a butterfly house I used to go to with thousands of exotic, muti-coloured creatures flitting around. They would land on me, sit in my hand, settle in my hair. It felt like being kissed by fairies.I haven't thought of that place in years. Thank you for taking me back there. Smile.
Have mercy, this is hot!Come see me. I have something for you!
A Prefect Butterfly+ A Perfect Beauty= Perfect PoetryPerfect 1, Shay
Aw Shrinky, I can just picture you there, the Fairy Queen. :-)I'm glad you liked! As you can see from the post above this one, I came, I saw, I blogged!What a neat response, Marty, thank you so much. :-)
Soft and gentle poem.hi shayfire please visit Epiphany's End Note here -http://poemflesh2.blogspot.com
This poem floats lightly on air, perfectly delicate and fragile, like your butterfly. Lovely poem, Shay.
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