THE HOUR OF NIGHT BUTTERFLY by Ann Wood

The hour of night butterfly
Comes again in the evening, darkens,
the crickets start their own song.
The moon ghostly rises.
Stars shine on a background of heaven.
I fall asleep,The leaves are rocking.
smells of hot summer.
In the ethargic are the flowers,
Sparkled like pure gold.
Two small night butterfly,
dance their gentle dance.
Of their love do not wonder,
Their universe does reverance.




Poetry by antoniya katelieva-wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 88 times
Written on 2017-08-08 at 20:54

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text



antoniya katelieva-wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Thank you Ken
2017-08-09


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo! An exultant work, Ann.
Ken
2017-08-09