Butterfly
As a butterfly moves her graceful wings,
To catch flight upon a gentle breeze,
Winter turns slowly into Spring,
And lets her fly to where she please,
Thus as I write sat ‘pon this stair,
To pen regards within these lines,
Hope that it is only fair,
To spare a moment of your time,
For in my sleep there was a dream,
Remembered now lest I forget,
That saw that beauty of a queen,
And think how lucky she was met,
Selfish let that dream linger on,
And butterfly not to go,
But rest a while upon this page,
Whilst Time’s rivers gently flow.

_________________
"And then I realized... like I was shot... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought: My God... the genius of that. The genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure."