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Personification Butterfly Poems | Personification Poems About Butterfly

These Personification Butterfly poems are examples of Personification poems about Butterfly. These are the best examples of Personification Butterfly poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Personification | |

Puzzle Piece

A puzzle piece you are to me 
Like a vine without any leaves. 
Your heart is pure your soul is 
Gold, the sweetest thing I'll 
ever hold! A miracle in my eyes 
it seemed, knowing they said 
no babies for me! Always a 
surprise you seem to be just 
like a puzzle piece! At 9 months 
you walked but not until 4 did 
you first talk! Always a terror 
making a beautiful mess always 
a surprise that has yet to be 
met! The twists and turns I 
know we will see will seem 
somewhat like a roller coaster 
to me! The milestones and 
special gifts you bring will make 
my life seem Like a dream, my 
special boy I have always said 
How special I knew not till 
Aspergers they said! The 
journey will be trying the 
journey will seem long! But 
with our family together we will 
chug along! My special boy I 
love you so and cannot wait to 
see you mature and grow! Now 
we have a goal we have our 
dream you see to make you the 
perfect fitting puzzle piece!! 


Written by: Christina Kirks 
McCullouch 04/05/2012 For 
Jonathan S McCullouch Jr 
Mommy loves you to eternity 
and beyond! Forever and 
always!



Details | Personification | |

Hey, Butterfly, Butterfly

Hey! butterfly! butterfly! 
Wait for me, 
And tell me of your dreams.

Have you danced with fairies gay
And found your love and life? 
Have you sipped the sweetest gold
And rest on  the coloured beds? 


Hey, butterfly, butterfly
Come on me,
And sing me your finest song.

Have you heard the music,
The music of all that is? 
Have you seen the unseeable tones, 
And swam in the seas scent? 

Hey, butterfly, butterfly
Rest on me
And tell me what you be.  

Have you danced with blossoms 
And laid your babes to hatch? 
A fluttered dream of worms long dead
The hope of better things to come.

Hey, butterfly, butterfly
Leave me not
But tell, 
What do dreams, dream of? 
Of worms? of God? 
Or  Both? 


Details | Personification | |

Spring

The butterfly went to a party last night all through the evening. It was the drunken butterfly and he saw all different butterflies through the night at the party. Both of them were drunk in front of the butterfly that evening. He woke up the next morning and he didn't remember who gave him drinks. It was different butterflies passing for everyone at the party. His friend found out that there was another butterfly drunk that evening. After that night, one was over and he began to face it with. One of the drunk butterfly at that evening. When he went up to all the butterfly were drunk at the party. Then that night, he went home to get straight from that night all day. Then he looked back to the party to find out who gave him drinks that evening.


Details | Personification | |

Cocooned

Loneliness and sadness
Are my constant shadows.
My unsolicited friends.
They keep me company
In times when no one seems to understand.
They chose me to be their companion.
But, in retrospect, did I choose them?
I always wonder.

Over the years,
I tried to secure 
     my joys
        my happiness
           my fulfillment
               my pleasure
                    even my blissful dreams.
But, I guess, 
I've been unsuccessful.
I have to agree to the terms.
This alone seems clear to me.

Resigned is myself now.
Bound to solitude.
Welcoming no one but silence.
A complementary trio.
The mind thinks of solitude
While the heart sings of silence.
Life is a dull mystery.

But, still, I care to tell
a small portion of what life is.
So, I call to them.
This mysterious loneliness,
That strange sadness,
Lingering.
They want to be heard.
Yet, 
     they hesitate.
A nod towards shame.
And, so
they curl up
inside
like some caterpillar 
     taking refuge
        inside
          a dark cocoon.       
They breathe. 
They live. 
They thrive.
They become.
Like in some forest,
   carefully hidden.
The beauty is silenced;
                        confined within. 



Details | Personification | |

Cocoon

The Cocoon.
 The Inner woman was a myth in eyes of the oppressed
 Limited to one
 To one that gives her life
 The layers of her thoughts lay dipped in his hands
 Controlling the pieces of what was hers and what was his
 She was kept a secret
 Making her beauty lay diminished in his arms of trust and deceit, 
 Her Wings clipped 
 Her Ambition sorrowed
 Her Spirit locked
 The Butterfly's land was 
 Complete, with unchallenged control
 The oppressor dominates all,

She came into this world unknown, 
 She looks to the sky, for the infinite dream, 
 her guide is heart, the trust of her pride,
 Looking for a way 
 To bring happiness to herself, in all ways possible
 She's lost in the eyes of what beauty of isn't 

Consumed by the walls that have for shaken , moved and grown her
 Little did she know, she was growing power through slumber.

Underneath the blossoming flowers and the sweet nectar breeze, laid the beauty of divinity. 
 The flare of her voice
 The span of her wings
 The beauty she had within her
 Is the greatest joy, that was brought upon this earth. 
 We lay and wait, to watch the Cocoon unfold,

This Is a war that our Little Butterfly is going in on her own,
 She may stumble, she may fall
 She will fight the oppressor in all
 Her wings dented,
 Her Spirit unsure of,
 She is it still our Little Butterfly. 
 Reborn.


Details | Personification | |

Of Butterflies and Rose Bushes

Like butterflies are some I know,
Who passing, catch my eye.
They flit and flutter to and fro,
And then . . . Away they fly!

But I prefer the bush I see,
Upon which they alight
Because each year she offers me
A bright and sure delight.

The blossoms springing forth from her
Are of the sweetest hue,
A crimson red, my heart to stir,
My spirit to renew.

Winged beauties are to summer days
And pretty flowers drawn.
Despite their charming social ways,
By winter they’ll be gone.

My stalwart bush, through winds and rains,
From spring till winter's end,
Unlike the butterflies, remains,
And she is named "True Friend."


For P.D's(who is a friend to all)
for any old butterfly poem...... Poetry Contest
(I have at least five old butterfly poems and I hope
I chose one you like).


Details | Personification | |

The Rose and the Butterfly

Oh plump pink rose from heaven
my tiny butterfly heart dances

How humble am I in this garden of delights
just to drink in your beauty!

In your presence I sigh and sit and
watch you in this June morning..

Open your virgin bud as pink as 
the blush on an angel's cheek

Your petals as soft as the kiss of evening
how sweet your fragrance - so intoxicating..

That I find it hard to balance on this leaf
as my heart grows giddy with your scent..

More enchanting than any nectar in heaven
I bow in your presence and pray to be noticed..

So I may sit near you and feel your softness
grant me a moment to alight 

So I may lie close to you and drink
in your loveliness

Before an angry breeze
tears you apart

And carries you away from me
scattered petals crying 

Floating far far away
with no trace of your existance..


Details | Personification | |

butterfly

Butterfly, your beauty shifted persuasively
no one dares to paraphrase your mystery
your rebirth is your unspoken myth
you are the beauty that is left behind

your body is vulnerable
with wings as delicate as snowflakes
you get lonely in this weird yet wonderful world
in no doubt, you are not the only one

it is so lovely to see
in this fairy tale, you are the real Cinderella
others used to disgust on what you looked like
but underneath your blurry mask, your charisma is a mind-blowing

butterfly, don't reach the sky too high...
or you may fall and lose your charm
butterfly, don't just come to say goodbye
your beauty is a gift in this world of harm

please stay for a while
released us from heartache and worry
then you can just passed us by


Details | Personification | |

The Hobo Butterfly

I've been worried lately.

I cry inside, and my smile 
is just above the surface of
my lips.

Often I'm afraid someone 
may see that it isn't always
the genuine smile I claim it 
to be.

I don't see me; accomplished, 
and
I don't see failure either.

I see someone who is 
stuck-

With seemingly no way to
scramble out. 
To wriggle free, and spread 
her wings....
As if emerging from inside of
a coccoon. 
A butterfly, transformed
from that of a lowly caterpillar.
Yet still afraid to fly, but longing
to soak up the wind blowing upon
her fragile newborn wings.

I wish sometimes I were a hobo.

Where my only worry would be
when I could hop the next train;
destination unknown.

No distractions.
No worries.

Just me and the train.

Nothing but the roar of the 
wheels humming against the track.
Vibrations coming through the steel 
of the rail car, into the pit of my being.

My bones rumbling.
My core trembling.
My soul shaken.
My heart, mending.

My wings finally, 
fluttering.

When that train stops:
(I will)
Fly away free.