By: Amoureax Amant
A sea of daffodils grew over hills,
when yearning turned fragrant wind from windmills,
and daffodils fluttered with wind of spring,
blooming, swaying, dancing, and fluttering.
Two butterflies sipped wine of daffodils,
like drunk innebriates laid among hills,
and danced among daffodils in return,
dancing till sun settled on west mountain.
If there's last life, you were a daffodil,
beholding faraway windmill on hill,
if there's last life, I was a breeze on lawn,
hitting green leaves of grass with song of dawn.
Would you listen that notes I spread on grass,
that notes turned dew of love dropped in tea glass.