Buttercup

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  • Death

    Buttercup

    Good Friday 2009

    my little yellow friend
    so innocent were you
    so sweet, so fragile
    my little ray of sunshine
    how your chirps made me smile
    taken away too soon
    wish i had done more
    my only consolation
    is that you now fly free
    as you should be.
    "Skybird spread your wings"
    "Fly, fly little wing.
    fly where only Angels sing"

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    Tamstarr’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Sonny Gonna 0
    A sonnet in the storm 0
    Buttercup 0
    before the knock 0
    Disposable 0
    Young Love 1
    Butterflies 1
    invisible love 1