I'm still alive and I don't know why?
My heart survived falling from the butterfly sky
Caught by the hands of destiny
With visions only I can see!
My love I heard your call
Wings of a butterfly broke my fall
Love motion is in the air, a love no one can compare
Indulging a look-a-stare- that we both share
Reminiscing our love made out of stolen hope
Awe~:*! To them butterfly kisses that felt so real
Flowing like Amazing Grace,
A shining light upon my face.
I traveled fast and far, longing to be in your arms
I desire, the warm sensation of your charms
Your safe love will help me carry on,
With the strength and bond~the love you set upon
Nothing is better than a sensual butterfly kiss
Beyond the sensation of heaven's pure bliss
Fluttering in the clouds aiming for the moon
A dream of reality, out of my cocoon I bloom!
Valued by the art of true beauty and its rarity
True love flapping in the mist of clarity
I entwine that I am yours and you are mine
Bonded together till the end of time
With the vision my heart is no longer blind
Two broken hearts at last combined
I glide below to touch your lip.
Our lashes touch from tip to tip.
Caressing each other as our wings expand
Two hearts- kisses collide and land
Holding your hand reaching to the rainbow sky.
Kisses:*kisses:* like the butterfly!
Dedicated to *Nathan*
Here are butterflies who skip
Dull steps of metamorphosis
No isolation in coocoons
No gorging grubs like fat balloons
Pure genesis on snow kissed flowers
Comes with no imperiled hours
Their slow, eternal life begun
Beneath a pink pearlescent sun
Reflecting tints from rainbows born
With pastel lights of endless dawn
Transcend through fabled time and myth
To form the rings of Saturn's mist.
Furry little caterpillar in
your coat of black and brown
It's so very hard to tell
if you are up or down
From your lofty branch
you fall onto a leaf below
Only to decide again
that's not the way to go
you are so steadfast
in your flight
I have such sympathy
for your plight
As you inch about to and fro
I wonder why I love you so
Then as the miracle
of life's performed
With golden wings
you are transformed
Your former self left stiffly dried,
no more a furry coat inside
Now as you glide on currents high
I need not wonder ,why I sigh...
Tis you I love, my Butterfly!
Author Mary Thompson
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
let's start with a line and see where it leads
People like blood so I will make mine bleed
a zombie a chainsaw perhaps some bats
For good measure I'll throw in some black cats
I'm running out of ideas I think
Something is bad, it's a terrible stink
Have you heard the one, about the sparrow
He let loose excrement, on the Pharaoh
Oh what a horror, the bird felt so bad
The Pharoah in anger, yelled out egad
Archers at the ready, shot the bird down
Pharoah bit of wings, wore them on his gown
He fed the birdie to his own black cat
The cat so happy it meowed where it sat
Mummys and bats they make me want to scream
Most of the horrors come from my own dreams
Dancing disjointed, what do I have to loss
Bones I crunched, I removed with dental floss
Let's finish with a flurry, a mad dash
A horrible fungus, a scabby rash
Worst poem Contest
. . . . * * * . . . .
"I dreamt, I was a butterfly or was I, a butterfly dreaming . . ."
~out drifting on a wind- swept night, she hears air of clouds speak
of rafting whispers from the light, to let a blue angel seek * *
a pathway through the marsh shade, where satins of evening flow
past crushed green and frosted jade, a world enrapturing glow,
a world not quite in between, where neither she nor he has sailed
an old psalm , a holy scene, a place where every tear is nailed,
and far out past the veil-stained trail, there is a dream waiting for her
like an enchanting necklace on sail, a reverie drifting on sea so fair~
she smells bird song’s grace, captivating in it’s solitude *
*another time another place, where even dreams gently intrude,
a place where silence breathes a voice,entrancing the heart of a man
another hope, another choice, another contemplative charm, * *
along a road a tree sways, chanting to each passing ear
the words she touches but cannot see, the words erasing the fear,
and though there’s still a strain, that somehow just won’t go away *
fascinating thoughts affirm that faith grows stronger by the day~ ~
~they sit there talking side by side, so many tunes in their rhyme
no place for anything to hide, transparent is the hood of time,
his voice cuddling traces of before, a sacred place of long ago *
another sanctum, another key, a space that they still have to know,
and as they hum of when and where, a voice calls softly from behind
like delightful music of the breeze, that feels so heavenly designed,
* then suddenly the night drips gold, as the necklace floats into sea
and just before he leaves, he tells that all their dreams would come to be. ~ ~
all rights reserved
. . . . . .
For Constance: Daydreams, dreams and dreams Contest
From: nette onclaud
10 Jul 11
A day comes with a
For the words, less
to cope all few,
The breezy wave and
Of rising sun, view
the Himalaya highs,
Held me there,
caught me freeze,
And the prevailing
dusky downy haze,
To falling cascade
of ivory rays,
Where I hied to let
I look & look, with
a glance and gaze,
With winking eyes
with hot cap,
I observed their
And whence the sun
rise and set,
Sparrow and humming
beak to get,
Food to survive and
And live on sharp
edgy curvy stemy
Above the grove and
in dense forest,
peace dwells in the
levitate and birds
And oscillate with
A bird in this
Jingle jangle and
Are not base
They rise through
Up to our believe
They are alive and
I ask my conscience
where to hike,
Stood here and there
or by riding bike,
To feel the scent of
this rainy December,
Over my worries and
silence to end
Made one statue,
stunned one bright,
And I put my towel
to have a shower,
This congeal water
pierces me by power,
Oh ablution is
enough for adequacy,
Count on, fend off
And when I walk on
The emerald tint
fell a shadow,
Upon my eyes to
Where the earth,
laid with several
The invigoration of
spirit rises up
On rambling off and
on, this grassy
Over this belt with
No alternate of this
land, O nays,
Where I felt about
Falling, right left,
up and down,
Then I move here and
there, up-to sun
To meet buoyantly
this sunny light,
The sun with
magnetic warm and
This morning with
Cause a man to wake
Sing a flute while
sitting under an
How this mean, a
life less of
Won’t you thrill
this grudgingly by
A world, an
And a life with
plenty of beach’s.
For Spring to Come
For spring to come we can hardly wait; In every part of it want to participate; Hear birds sing as flowers start to grow Watch fine fields while they will flow.
Leaves turned green which were brown; And spring showers started falling down, With water that eventually by now brings Born butterflies soon with beautiful wings.
Sun will start shining more each day
Pretty soon clouds are passing away; Sky becomes Carolina blue and clear, After all of gray color did disappear.
A while now, nearby, spring has been, While we always wanted to see it again; So silently spring surely started to fade; Summer was here as we sat in the shade.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Need your comments, criticism, thoughts and ideas.
I am entering it into a poetry contest at local library.
It is time to wake up and be truthful to ourselves.
We are just a dream lacking butterfly wings.
It times to strive for more.
The floor has no ceiling.
Our dynasty will form.
Our destiny is ours.
The monarch must rule.
We are the colors that soar.
We are North America.
We are the people that were discovered.
This is our time to thrive.
We have survive through atrocities.
We reside in our given places.
We are the faces of tribes.
Those that hate us are not within this world.
We are of a greater determination and of God.
The spirits of our people are our sacred grounds.
To thread across, is uncouth and unsound.
We will stand up for our rights.
We will fight for our way of life.
We are the voices of Chiefs.
We are the Tribes.
Home is where the butterfly goes;
Somewhere no one may ever know.
Home is where the sparrow flies;
A nest in softest shadows hides.
Home is where an old man can die
LEOPARD TO HUNTER:
Hello please do come right in
Did you say that you fancied my skin?
My coat of fur is not for your use
Cats like me have suffered enough abuse
If the creator had felt you required my skin
I'd be sitting where you are, and you'd invite ME in!
Sweet butterfly with wings of gauze
Give this tired heart a moment's pause
Unburdened by the human cloak
Freedom's spirit your flights invoke
Dreaming times in cloudy spheres
Raining droplets made of tears
With not a whisper you fly away
I would not bid you here to stay
Beside your path goes just a bit of me
For one moment my soul flies free
for the Butterfly contest
I guess maybe both of us may have changed to some degree;
But try though I may I see it in you more than I see it in me.
I guess I wasn’t so nice to you as far as that boy girl thing went;
But I know there had to have been a few memorable moments spent.
Ah but that train I ride it keeps rolling down the track;
And I guess there’s just no coming back
So while I’m stopped here waiting for the right time;
It’s okay to look around but if you don’t have a ticket it’s still my dime.
So maybe next time baby girl another life another place;
Who knows what mysteries might appear before you right there in your face.
My butterfly garden of splendid views
Bestows trails of wings in vibrant hues
Blooming flowers tempt with nectar sweet
As butterflies flutter, grand colors a treat
Their grace lifts my soul in the dawn's early hour
While I watch them dance from flower to flower
In morning glory, a monarch kisses then flies
This butterfly gift, a charming surprise
She gently touches my hand as I freeze
Her delicate wings then wave on the breeze
A moment in time, beauty given to me
On wings of glory, a cherished beauty
My butterfly garden of splendid views
Bestows trails of wings in vibrant hues
But one brilliant monarch floating on the wind
Landed for a visit and became a dear friend
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, April 1,2012
for a Butterfly's Trail of Kisses contest (Gail Doyle)
Poems we prepare should become a song
Then try to have a Poetry Talk-A-Along
When each one reads my poem will agree
That they should read it along with me.
At same time will read it all together
And outside no matter what kind of weather
Evening if raining, stormy or skies are blue
You can take this copy home with you.
Read poems after temptation off did fight,
Maybe in morning, noon or even at night;
Most of my poems are all rather relaxing
So email to others or you may try faxing.
Some poems have been about history
Or with might use to solve a mystery
Or I have heard and even better yet
Time I fell in love when we first met.
Poetry these days is drawing much attention;
People like them and there is no dissension;
My profound poems can promote tranquility;
Why even you too may have a hidden ability.
When they met, their pairing unlikely.
From two worlds, stories differed slightly.
Into the forest ahead they go
He observes her, rosy cheeks aglow.
The pair ensconced in equal lushness,
where the Redwoods grow, the moss touchless.
Streaks of fresh sunlight mismatched in strength
cast upon their shoulders from great length.
Today she is his and he is hers,
no aches in their hearts remain uncured.
Unspoken words dance between their lips,
Looks exchanged, his touch on her hips.
Butterflies linger, often they do.
She smiles, eyes soften, her hope renewed.
Their start described as remarkable.
When face-to-face, their love thinkable.
I was so sad I was about to cry
When she appeared in the corner of my eye
Being carried gracefully by the wind
I believe she wanted to be my friend
She had rainbow wings and big brown eyes
Like silver dollars floating in the sky
There was a reason that I was so sad
I’d lost the most beautiful thing I had
It was more precious than anything
For I’d lost my diamond ring
I had my ring since I was four
But now at 5 I have my ring no more
Dad and I backtracked my steps nice and slow
Searching for my ring both high and low
When the butterfly came floating down
Landing on my ring lying on the ground
I ran and got my ring up off the ground
Right here on my finger it can be found
I thanked Mrs. Butterfly with a smile and a tear
Waving goodbye as she disappeared
Into a rainbow that crossed the sky
My magic ring finding rainbow butterfly
Written by my daughter Michaela and I
Flow with me gently or flutter on by
Your butterfly tears stain green your blue eyes
In rivers and inlets or far away streams
your tears follow currents in search of your dreams
The butterfly swimmers with wings blue and gold
refuse to taste nectar that's any less bold
than you are in flight dipping through night
an eclectical sight, your reflection so tight
in your very own eyes shines bright from the tears
They strengthen your ties and lengthen your years
The spread of your wings cast shadows warm blue
to all that you love, and all who love you...