The Butterfly Face

Was it fate, or a mere coincedence,
That our lives were to collide,
Under the dreary day, and a sunny night,
What more could the nature provide.

A flap of a wing, or a flutter of an eyelid,
Was it the beauty that blinded my sight,
As for my fate, oh a twisted one at that,
so how come you are my magical sunlight?

She flips her mane, and raises her face,
Like butterfly wings, they float in air.
She brushes her hair and smiles at me,
Dazed I doubt my newly gained sunshine.

She walks, with the tender touch,
As the butterfly floats along,
Like the water, her body does sway,
And like moon, her beauty does shine.

She is a nymph, with beauty untold,
Carefully crafted, by natures own hand.
The elements of life, dwel in her,
The elegence of beauty, crowns her head.

She does live, but in my dreams,
Where butterflies I do chase.
She will be mine, forever more,
The woman with the butterfly face.