An occasion of angels
rests in warm thoughts
when time reckons able
we fall in to flight, as naught
can stir the wish to ever be so
held in a dream as love can do.
The mind makes a butterfly flight
on edge of wind and cusp of light
the rhyme and reason is simply seen
to taste the warmth of flower streams
in air defined by fluttered sight, until
follow whispers, to take our fill
of all the heart can give,
of all the life, living can live.
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