Boy Like A Butterfly (and the critters of his mind)
in this open fields where grass grow tall
sheathed within pods of silver white
are critters of vivid colors and small
sleeping, waiting for the day of flight
while dewdrops adorn the morning grass
he hums the tune of a early butterfly
flute music in harmony with a dancing lass
while around her swaying arms morning birds fly
with spring flowers blooming like lace
growing with grace on the earth’s face
colors of a butterfly is in the melody he sings
his vibe is on a story how critters grow wings
he hears the whispering voice of lusty wind
as he watches her grace playing with his mind
within his mind’s eye her tricks runs deep inside
silently pushing him to the brink, senses collide
the critters of his mind, encrusted in a silver sheath
sway in harmony with the tune he choose to play
silently her charm is what conjure love from beneath
critters grew wings in tune with his melody this day
The Fallen Elegy 
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