Mariposa

Butterflies are white and blue
In this field we wander through.
Suffer me to take your hand.
Death comes in a day or two.

All the things we ever knew
Will be ashes in that hour,
Mark the transient butterfly,
How he hangs upon the flower.

Suffer me to take your hand.
Suffer me to cherish you
Till the dawn is in the sky.
Whether I be false or true,
Death comes in a day or two.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Comments (2)

.........a beautiful poem conveying a beautiful message...cherish the ones you love, for life is fragile and death is always near..
Have always enjoyed this beautiful poem.