Butterflies, oh sweet little butterflies,
Soft is you freedom - like the velvet clouds;
Drifting through the air right before my eyes,
And then hiding, where the horizon enshrouds.
Your dusky wings like love into the night,
With the moon reflective - like bluish gold;
I sighted, in the last of summer flight,
Though none your blooming dreams I could behold.
Each soft flight, is like a love song - tenderly,
When swiftly through the flower buds you go;
Like in every fairy tale you fly free,
Away spreading wings into sunshine glow.
I'll wait for next year to have dreams with you,
Till then, my love songs flit into the blue.