I wander path

winding through

sloping rises of

wildflowers,

ephemeral z e p h y r s

of colour and scent;

sun-diamonds

p

                  r i s

                                m e d

in summer-blue sky

then in sliver of

magic; each poppy,

anemone, daisy,

morphs to butterfly

s

            w 

     i 

       r

l

         i

           n

g,

touching me with breath of

wing;

kaleidoscope

of joy

© Lorraine

image: JW Waterhouse; kaleidoscope images from pixabay.com

For Tale Weaver 147, what brings you joy. This is a dream I had long ago – a non-nightmare unusual for me. I remember it so clearly; they fly around me like butterflies or warblers. Often my dreams are like that. Play in my head, but I can’t catch the words to tell them. 

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