Wind through the sand
Your breeze-blown eyes
Waiting for the rain,
And purple butterflies.
You don’t want to listen
While we’re on the last porch swings
For the butterfly that likes to fly
With black-tipped wings.

Puddles in the sand
What do the puddles say?
Sift through daytime dreams,
Let the waves wash them away.
Stand still as they crash
And tempt us with a frown
We’re still waiting for the rain,
While the world is looking down.

 
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