MOMENTS
A gull cries.
A spider crawls.
A child plays.
Butterfly thoughts
flit here and there, on
dancing sunbeams
and, wings give freedom to fly
to sense the thrill, like
first touch upon a lovers skin.
The gift of fresh opened eyes
soak up a world passing by
in sweet, sweet
lackadaisical
Moments of time.
~*~
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Shared at Sunday Scribblings #273 Give/Gift