Times, They Are A ‘Changing.
This poem I pen to a sweet Butterfly that I shall always miss.
Though young is she,
Her spirit and zest for life reminds me of when I too in my youth danced the dance of Butterflies amongst the field, wood and the ancient forest trees.
So remember now oh soft Butterfly
In your future and coming days,
How many smiles you brought this old man,
Yet still young at heart, many a happy day.
You will be missed sweet Butterfly
Who dances forever on the soft summers breeze.
J. Allen Wilson © 7/14/2013
Ron