Netted butterflies

 

Melting with delight,

Tickled by the blush of youth,

The air sweet with wildflower scent,

Adolescence rushing to the peak

to quench the thirst of all curiosities,

And awaits there

the trapper of butterflies—love,

With its beautifully designed, silky net,

To catch lovely colors on the wings,

To see them flapping

for the agony and ecstasy of

loving and being loved.

 

What else are we when in love,

if not netted butterflies?

We love getting netted

in the silk threads

of that sweet bondage,

We just pine to be caught

with emotions all fiery and hot,

Aah, the cupid’s high scoring, slaying shot!