Fireflies in a grassy field.
My Writing

“I chase little Fireflies”

I chase little Fireflies—

I catch them in cupped hands—

And though I lose them, still I try—

Following to greener lands.

The Fae hold court in oak trees—

In Spring do newborns bloom—

They ride on butterflies and bees—

O’er them my shadow looms.

I plan to place them in a jar—

To catch myself some Joy—

But creatures of fleeting Freedom are—

In captivity, destroyed.

~

Photo by Rajesh Rajput on Unsplash