flitting – Anita Bacha

You will never find another love like mine,

The flitting butterfly has an eye for the frail beauty of flowers,

Hovering snootily contemplating his kill;

The flowers are not insensate to the beauty of the ladylove,

Enriched in voluptuous colors,

Perfumed with the choicest fragrances,

They flaunt their bewitching loveliness,

In the offing, to drug him in a deep drowsiness;

Confused in the variety of choices,

The beau flutters his wings,

Heaves a sigh!

I love you all, my ravishing dames! he cries;

Swelling buds ready to break their lavish folds,

Waning roses ready to die,

Dancing, flirting frivolously,

Under the blueness of the summer sky

You will never find another love like mine

Anita Bacha

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Tag: flitting