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She lies upon a bed of petals
Its scent calls her name
A roaming flutter of the winds
It beckons her again.

Basking in the scented air
As the wind pulls at her wings
Does she see her melody?
In the beauty that she brings.

Calling her to red and yellow
Dancing amid the fragrant roses
Within the glitter of morning dew
She drinks from the lovely posies.

Flying fancy in her painted wings
As she flutters my butterfly dreams
But does she sense the beauty?
That in my eyes I hold?

Oh, I think she knows it
From the smile that I have shown

By Brenda Conley (c) 2002