Your words give wings to my dreams and though visions are seldom shared by the timid
I am awed by the depth of their meaning
How fortunate is the butterfly to whom much is addressed
As I sit beside loves waters awaiting my time to float upon the bosom of my content
Background echoes whisper don’t go into the water.
Savor instead the fire of my content which is nothing unless shared.
Come fly with me and feign beloved if only for this day.
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Regis
Georg