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Swimming the Butterfly
A butterfly I seem with arms spread wide
And through the water flapping wings I fly.
A dolphin’s tail I use to kick and glide,
While shooting out of water to the sky.
With rhythm like a tide I rise and fall,
While leaving snowy bubbles in my wake.
Emerging from the water I enthrall,
Though landing on the surface makes it quake.
The stroke is fierce and brutal, as I thought,
Unlike the dainty butterflies we spy.
But understand the reason I do not,
Today the stroke is named the Butterfly.
And other titles it could simply claim,
But Butterfly remains, as it’s one name.
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