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BUTTERFLY
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A butterfly flew by
I stopped and watched as it flew
From flower to flower in the Garden.
Gracefully it danced on the wind
and gently landing on each flower
to drink of its sweet nector.
When it had had its fill
off it went dancing its glorious dance,
until out of sight, and I was left
wondering and hoping, if I would ever
see that butterfly again.
Then suddenly it struck me sending waves
of overwhelming emotion through me
The Garden was my mind.
The Flowers my soul.
The Butterfly was YOU.
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If you have someone in your life that has touched you please let them know by sending them this.
by Russ Pastian
Copyright 1998.
No part of this poem may be reproduced by any mechanical, photographic, or electronic process. Nor may it be copied, printed, or published for public or private use without written permission form the author.
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