The Butterfly queen
A night was painted in butterfly hues,
Soft wings whispering dreams in delicate views…
Last night, a dream touched deep in my soul,
Where every butterfly seemed to take your role.
In a blooming garden, alive and bright,
Butterflies danced in the silver light.
Amid their flutter, graceful and slow,
There you stood in a gentle glow.
Among the flowers, tender and fair,
Like a butterfly queen descended there.
Draped in white, like pure moonlight,
A glowing vision, soft and bright.
Your shimmering smile, so calm, so true,
Made even the butterflies pause for you.
Your long dark hair in the evening air,
Silken waves with a mystic flair—
One tiny butterfly lost its way,
And rested there as if to stay.
Another one on your shoulder lay,
Listening to secrets you wouldn’t say.
And countless wings all danced around,
Like they crowned you without a sound.
Each flutter whispered, soft and light,
“You are the soul of this garden’s sight.”
It felt as though the sky, the air,
The butterflies belonged to you there.
You were their queen, their gentle guide,
The beauty they carried in every glide.
And in that dream, so pure, so true,
Even the butterflies resembled you…
A moment so magical, soft, and deep—
A dream too beautiful to simply sleep.
I
The Butterfly queen A night was painted in butterfly hues, Soft wings…
