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Butterfly ValleyThere’s a secret place I go, I call Butterfly valley. I'd like to take you along, but you see... I have to go alone. The sun always shines there, except on Sunday afternoons, when it rain and all the crystal clear water runs into this lush tropical lagoon. Where large gold fish swim until the rising of the silvery moon. Butterflies, large and small, on fluttering wings of dark blue, bright yellow glow, snow white with velvet brown spots and others with all the colors of the rainbow. There are tropical flowers of all sorts, velvet pink roses, white spotted, trumpet shaped lillys and enamored with large spotted orchids and tiny long steammed posies. In the distance I can faintly hear a melody from a pan flute softy playing; "Hey Jude." The crystal clear waters of the lagoon, reflecting memories of the good times from my past. A place in time that I thought would never pass. O’ how, I hate to leave this place of pure contentment. This beautiful lush paradise with no hatred, no wars, no arguments, no city noise, no crime or regrets of lost time. No one else will ever find Butterfly Valley, you see... for it’s hidden deep in a secret corner of my mind. I most go now, for reality is calling me... Yeh! Yeh! I heard you! Just a damn minute! Jackie R. Kays Copyright…2004 Vote for this poem
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