THE BUTTERFLY
I say Oh so precious are my days
As I see this butterfly rest on stage
wings amassed with all such grace
as this gold in love does bellow
coloured in all adornment
to know in Heaven's sight
of humour and passionate possession
sings to favour and delight
her quietly expanding wings
in the glow of light so bright
on through my open window
captured on quilted pillow
that is where I lie, as sound asleep in dream
taken all away into eternal realm
away in summer's breeze
with all the scent and pollen
where all seeds of love do fall to ground
to all in future's blossom
to a ship whose sails are full of life
that cut through this blue ocean
upon a sea that rolls and sways
to push in tender motion
the most perfect wave that ever could be
could ever be on her bow
rising toward the distant horizon
in the here and now
as all song of bird on an island long
rings clear through pristine glades
through this tree soaked land
sings high to all such praise
as to the peace in all my dreams
I listen as I do in sight
this butterfly to my window
to carry me on so sure and sweet
to rest upon all that is fair
to never contain or capture
as in all its glory I do see
so wonderfully in such rapture
so moving to be so always free
as Oh so precious are my days
I shall sing forever