Like the butterfly,
Love must be allowed to be free.
Free to spread it's wings,
Sharing it's beauty with all who are in awe
Of it's mysterious charms.
It is to be admired and adored,
To be cherished and protected.

When it is captured,
And held too tightly,
It will be crushed and smother.
It's magical beauty will fade.
It's spirit will wither.
And, like the butterfly,
Love will be lost forever.

Gloria Dianne