Her smile,
tells a story, of it's own,
with a laugh, that's loud, and, wild,
she belongs, atop a throne.

I often
am awestruck, by her presence,
creativity, and, kindness,
intellect, and, effervescence.

Sometimes,
I go frolicking, in memories,
her fragments of felicity,
help to vanquish, mental enemies.

Bursting;
from the cocoon,
of childhood.
I'm reminded -
the direction, of a         
                                           Butterfly;
isn't always understood.

© poormansdreams