Her hair streaked with gold, Glistening in the sun. Her aviators shining, Reflecting the wonder in my face. She is that girl, The tan blonde with boot-cut jeans And soulful eyes. My butterfly, my muse. In all her forms she is lovely, Her laugh trickling down my spine Like water. An Eskimo kiss to send her off To the land where dreams are falling stars. And as they wave past, I see the twinkle in her heavy eyes. Just don’t fly too far My butterfly, my muse.   Written by Emily Smith at fearfullywonderfullyme.com, 2016 © I hope you liked this poem! I love my big sister and have always admired her beauty…