Dating : You Reap What You Sew

A Poem

The butterflies are back —
I know they never went far,
but now I want to trap them,
keep them bottled in a jar.

I hear all those stories —
The butterflies don’t stay,
once the novelty wears off,
then they just fly away.

But maybe I can tempt them —
I’ll memorize their ways,
and provoke their return,
on those duller days.

Or what if I plant flowers —
So colours fill our space,
then they’ll surely flutter back,
in the moments we embrace.