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Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Travel & Leisure poetry...

Lake butterflies way down beneath a blue sky
fly on Gods' given wings painted a Monarchs' colors
for all to see, not a single thought of either,
God or Monarch in their minds.

Free in a way few will ever glimpse,
yet those creatures without a mind capable
of either reading or writing, fly in perfect freedom
every summer for milleniums uncounted.
And the rare few will still only glimpse.



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