Butterflies in August

Is it butterflies?…this new feeling inside, or do they only flutter in the spring haze glow where the flowers are open…when the butterflies fly by?

And this face? Is it just the beauty of a green field growing wild with a rainbow smile at a break in the trees nearby…or is it happiness?

Are these bright flowers in a bunch my feelings today, as your company seems to make me say and your heart it seems has found a way…into my life?

It is my strife, to take a knife and cut away the madness to lessen the sadness I feel when you are not around. I miss you…as I hear the sound of butterflies in August.

Fluttering by, are these the reasons why I see your face in every place there are reflections?

And, the butterflies go by as the flowers comply doing as they are told with no resentment.

Is it warmth when I feel your mind, or is it the passion you seem to fashion when I press my lips upon your actions…taking away the nectar?

Is it the sun I use for direction when it lets me know you are the correction to my life?

And finally, I shall listen, and you will see as we agree the only sound that will be found is the sound of butterflies in August.