Then when I was distraught
And could not speak,
Sidelong, full on my cheek,
What should that reckless zephyr fling
But the wild touch of thy dye-dusty wing!
"My Butterfly" Robert Frost
A piece done by my beautiful granddaughter, Cynthia.
The most beautiful of Butterflies.
1 comment:
Ame:
Tell Cynth...this is awesome !
Love the poem, too.
Nice !
Mum
xoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
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