She had never been a springtime Butterfly But she had flown early from home Leaving behind a family too busy Listening to the tenor notes of their Own voices moaning
Iambe’s first home after that was one of isolation An AM radio her music, she learned to dance Listening to oldies, country, and Chicago’s rock While her audience was the occasional deer or squirrel. She moved in with him, because he had promised Something better.
It was better It was void of the tenor tones of family And he worked on the road during the week Leaving her to fend for herself.
*sigh* you have created a character who you have given life to by breathing so much reality into her from the poems you write...This poem is absolutely magnificent...I love it...I absolute love these lambes...thank you....**big hugs**
Love I leave with you whether it is in your life now or yet the essense of your dreams.
(smiles) Awwwwwww, I'm really becoming a fan of your series, sweet friend, your words encourage us all to fly like the butterfly and reflect the beauty of the ages through our hearts and nurture them dear! (big hugggsssss) We all love you so much, sweet friend, this is excellent! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Ron, thank you for sharing!
May love and light always shine upon you!
Love, Noah Eaton
Member Rara Avis
Deep in the heart