Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Good Times - 2. Chapter 2
Butterflies and Memories
In the garden of our yesterdays, where sunlight softly gleams,
Dance the butterflies of memories, fluttering through our dreams.
Their wings, a tapestry of hues, paint stories in the air,
Of laughter shared and whispered words, of moments pure and rare.
They flit through fields of golden days, where time seemed still and kind,
And rest upon the petals of the flowers in our mind.
Each delicate and fleeting touch, a brush of joy and pain,
Reminds us of the love we’ve known, the loss, the hope, the gain.
In twilight’s gentle fading light, they shimmer, soft and bright,
A reminder of the paths we’ve walked, the stars that lit our night.
Though seasons change and years may pass, their beauty never fades,
For butterflies of memories are the treasures life has made.
Seashells
By the shore where waves caress, Lie treasures in their sandy dress. Seashells glisten in the sun, each one unique, a story spun.
In hues of pink, and white, and gold, their secrets whispered, tales untold. From ocean's depths, they journeyed far, Guided by the moon and star.
With gentle curves and spiral grace, they find their home in this embrace. A symphony of nature's art, Seashells capture every heart.
So let us wander by the sea and gather shells with glee and glee. For in their beauty, we behold, A world of wonder, pure and bold.
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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