Elusive Thoughts.

Now summer braids her hair with
flowers
And through the meadow grass
Bright butterflies about my feet
Fly startled as I pass.
And in my mind a thousand thoughts—
Dream-shadows, half revealed—
Flit by like souls of butterflies
Across a moonlit field.
But never can my eager hand
Arrest them as they stray;
They flutter just beyond my reach,
And then—they fly away.

—Jean H. Mather.

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