Sometimes I walk through the grass in my bare feet,
And feel the leftover raindrops tickle my toes.
I walk under the trees and beat at the branches
And smell the leftover dampness in the air
From the last rainstorm.
And sometimes it rains again,
But only a little.

Sometimes I run through the grass,
And trip,
And fall.
And then I lay on the ground and stare up at the birds
(pretty birdies)
And listen to the animals
And wait for the deer to come up and nibble at my toes
And sometimes I talk to the butterflies in the garden
And sometimes they talk to me.

I want a butterfly garden of my own
With thousands of beautiful colorful wings.
I want a pond surrounded by a silver gravel walkway
With gold and white fish
(koi is Japanese for really big carp)
to swim around.
I want a yard that spans 3 acres
With a blue roan filly to run around
I want big red ceramic flowers full of sugar water
With humming birds flocking to it all day

But for now I have my lake
And the ducks
And the rabbits.

And the butterflies.