Butterfly kisses upon my lids aroused me from my slumber.
A spectacle of vibrant hues confounded me with wonder.
The Horizon shimmered with summer’s heat
As Psyche herself darted, to and fro, in moments beyond number.
Away, away, she flew away; beyond my grasp and reach.
Never to return no matter how much I might beseech.
That summer, too, has quickly fled. The air is growing colder.
I feel her loss most keenly now and nevermore will I hold her.
But, sometimes, late at night, when in the manner of repose;
I imagine she lies next to me, her eyes being also closed.