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I wish this poem were pixie dust
To throw into your eyes
and make you see the lovliness
Beneath my sad disguise

and I would take you in my arms
and weave a magic spell
That I could utter anytime
To make you love me well

But atlas my simple words
are like summer rain
That drums on hills and fields and hearts
Then vanishes again

and though my love might make you bloom
You turn with fragile grace
To gaze in aching loneliness
at someone else's face

We lust for what we can't have
A long unbroken chain
of lovers who remain unloved
and loved who love in vain

While I'm near mad with wanting you
as trees must have the sun
you can not help but find a love
who loves another one.

~Butterfly~