Fair Maybelle trode through the morning dew
She peered through the foggy haze
Her blue eyes saw what I tell you is true
For the fog did part and the sun did blaze
And a pure white unicorn met her gaze
Now it may well seem it would run away
Or perhaps she would rather shy
But against her nature she hastened to stay
And an unseen cord drew her nigh
Till Maybelle's feet she laid her by
So sweetly Maybelle stroked her hair
She longed for her touch once more
But Maybelle ceased, and she left her there
For what a *wight could see, that her heart was sore
Till she meet her love on the Highdown *Tor
So Maybelle walked o'er the far and near
And her one-horned friend followed light as a bird
And they travelled on without a sight of fear
With but one care and nary a word
That winsome twosome persevered
At the long last, Maybelle heard a pleasant sound
The sound of a rollicking song
And the butterflies danced in the air all around
Whilst her love held her dearly and long
If it could, could it be that she was the theme of his song?
So the three of them lived in the fairyland *wold
Where the sun slips off to the moonlight's glow
Where the wind blows warm and the streams flow cold
And the daffodils thrive in winter's snow
Now here is the end, as you surely know
* Wight: A person
* Tor: A high pointed hill
* Wold: A wood or forest
I can feel myself falling
Into the bottom of a hole
I hear the sunshine calling
That I make her my new home
I'll bask in all her glory
Penetrating into my soul
I'll write her an endless story
About this place I'll call home
Butterflies will surround me
In the beauty I adore
Much happier I will be
In a place with all her warmth
I do not know?
Summer fun in the glorious sunshine,
high spirits and glowing smiles.
Everything seems worth while. With
warm embrace upon you're face.
Summer is in full bloom, mother nature
she is exquisitely bliss in all colours of
flowers and upon butterflies wings and
many more marvellous things.
An uplifting feeling from an energising
sun, luminous green hills and a stunning
blue sky. Every colour so bold and brilliant.
This wondrous world is truly one in a million.
what new plant is this
flowering bees this morning
and butterflies too?
running to and fro
a group of ants in action
searching for food
bathed in the sunshine
shimmering pools of water
pulsating with life
Notice thou not the filling of the branches,
Green leaves and colored petals teeming with life,
As winter departs and springtime advances
Announced carefree aloft by birds with no strife
In high pitched melodies, like Soldier and fife.
From the hammocks of springtime all is quite well,
With showers and sunlight new life doth now spring
As bees pollinate and sleep doth befell,
And gentle breezes give sway to lovers who swing
Like the cadence of a bride, to bouquet she doth cling.
Notice thou not the filling of the branches
Winter's harsh beating winds now replaced,
By watercolors splashed across sky's canvas
Overlooking butterflies and love scenes chaste
Old Man Winter has departed, his chill now displaced.
Writen 4/16/2014 for the, "A Spring Day in English Quintain"Poetry contest.
It's mid-summer again with its mild and moist morning,
Soon whisked away by the mid-day sizzling breeze.
The gorgeous wildflower drinks of the sun's offering,
While butterflies sip of the lily blossom's wine on the lees.
Mid-summer is a time when love beads of rain cool the air;
The gentle beat of its falling seem a song of beneficence.
Then using the rainbow with his incomparable epic flair,
The Great Poet punctuates this grand verse with elegance.
As the birds are resting from their morning serenade,
They now allow the cricket its course at center stage.
The songbirds are cooling their throats in the shade,
Letting the hot sun with its prickling heat fiercely rage.
As the summer sun begins to appear as sweet red lips,
Like a dessert of refreshing sugared berries before me.
The evening breeze cools and my brow no longer drips,
As my eyes grow heavy and I dream of the new day to be.
It's easy to become lost in the idea that only things in life change you;
rather than you are always changing in your creation.
When you look at demons in the haze, marvel at the haze.
Demons are feeling homesick.
Be true to everything you are and thrive on.
We all have demons, it's up to you on what to do with those demons.
The most dangerous are the ones unknown.
She is herself. A beautiful demon; not hidden behind a shadow.
Her magic is infested in my desire.
She is beautiful for I can unravel her thoughts.
She expresses to me the words intertwined with my ambiguity.
Riddled with love; I sleep in her soul.
She is my butterfly in our cosmic cannibalism.
Summer is a lemonade
Summer breeze blowing the grass around
with a warm sun kissing my face
blue skies wrap and hug me
as I watch the butterflies race.
Summer gives me lazy days
coloured flowers and dancing trees
smell of charcoal and starry nights
brings back childhood memories.
Summer is an endless beach
sun cream, bikinis and beer
salty seaspray, fish and chips
postcards saying "wish you were here".
sunburnt shoulders and fun fares
laughter never seemed to fade
grab the ice and share around
yes Summer is a lemonade
This poem was first published in ‘Stone Voices Magazine’
—a publication that truly emphasizes spiritual realization.
It appeared in the Fall 2013 issue.
My hands are the hands
of a gardener,
fresh with soil, sunlight, and rain,
with the breath of flowers
and kisses of moisture.
I sprinkle seeds over the earth,
like a holy man sprinkles sacred water.
The soil: grateful for my blessing.
The birds: grateful for this small fare.
I chant incantations and listen
for the growth of roots,
for the rustling of sprouts,
pastel green and tender, spiritual
I rain dance and praise the sky,
hold my hands to the air,
forming a small bowl
for the rain to fill,
to be the stimulus, the birthmother,
the liquid that makes
the garden whole.
I ask the sun for waves
of light, the breeze
for strength and circulation,
the fertilizer for sparkling minerals
that infuse the roots, stems, and fruit
On my knees I dig
with bare hands into the soil:
my hands, like intimate dancers,
lead the busy prolific weeds
to another existence, to their rebirth.
My hands are the hands
of a gardener,
fresh with soil, sunlight, and rain.
From my fourth full-length collection of poems
©dah / dahlusion 2013
all rights reserved
My gratitude goes to publisher, Christine Cote
for bringing my work into her spiritual realm,
and for sharing with her readers one of my poems.
I was a child catching butterflies
on the yellow flowers
sprinkled on the green grass
at the roadside
They were beautiful butterflies -
and some tiny blue ones
which gave different shades of colour
as they were struck
by glancing sunbeams
There were little four-winged ones
which puzzled me
why did they have four wings
while the others only had two?
I was catching butterflies
a thing called progress
tore up the yellow flowers
on the green grass
at the roadside
and there are no more butterflies
and still I do not know
why some butterflies had four wings
while the others only had two
The Heart of my Friend
The wings of the butterfly are painted so unique
With God painting them how am I to critique
So vivid and beautiful as they float on the air
Showing off their beauty but nothing to compare
The mountains out west are so majestic and tall
The colors are beautiful especially during the fall
When the sun rays hit them they show all their might
The colors so crimson when the sun goes down at night
The colors of the rainbow before and after the rain
Figuring out how God made it makes you wanna go insane
From the red to the purple I know God had a plan
He’s painted the world with a perfectionist hand
The heart of my friend is as beautiful as can be
Like the wings of the butterfly it shows her beauty
Like the mountains out west her colors so pretty at night
Like the beauty of the rainbow it’s reflected by the light
God’s touched my friends face with the tip of his brush
Her smile like a monet and her voice is so plush
You’ll understand one day if she ever lives in your heart
But I’m not sharing she’s more precious than art
There’s no other heart like my friends this is true
Her smile so amazing and her eyes so imbue
She’s one of Gods wonders and God sent her my way
I’m so blessed to have her in my heart every day
I do not know?
I am freestyle
Dark day’s dark tress startreck
Beam me up scotey and take me away
Four those days that I have missed and still reminisced
Soon this will all co-exceed into the mist
I am a ninja an acoustic ninja to words and sounds
You can bend words and sounds to picture minds and souls
Blend words to find the mind and seek to dust
Words beat fighting, fighting solves instant emotions
Words kill the soul four ever long as you grow
These are my words as a ninja to sound
We are all round and found our sound
So don’t fight, just bite the words and say aloud
Combine your lyrics, as a lyrical genius
They may be a penis but so may you?
We try to take it slow to be a lady
Just doing things that couples in love do
Enter the ninja , you are a butterfly I need your Samira
Taking it to the next flow
I think about you in freaky visions you are butterfly
I need your production, I am a ninja I am razor shape
Rolling with the SOS my style is UFO
Oh ET oh, my name is that b*tch
Your sun down your sun done
Rocking like this, your run down, sun dust to collect interest
We in the club growing taller
Teardrops of dews glistening
Breaks the days of dawn
Caterpillars shedding shells of cocoon
Awakening with yawns
The little fairies quaintly appear
Dancing their favorite dances, all the day long
But, where do the butterflies dance to
When the sun hides her head...
And the days are shamelessly gone?
They fill up my gardens
Frolic from tip of tulip to end of the rose
Next to sunflower, daffodil the flutter flies flown
Never attempting to speak even one little peep
Keeping their precious secrets
From sun up until the sundown
A parade of floats
Viceroy to the Monarch whom he tries to pretend
Royal and regal, ginger and black
Passes the hours while waltzing with flowers
But where does each of them go as processions end?
Dainty, the Painted lady curtseys
Among the swallowtails that swan through the weed
And the Admirals through the blade
But soon to hide away
Flying rainbows of season’s beginning to fade
And my magical gardens now they are bare
The little fairies all have disappeared
Following the whisper of wisps, of a new winter’s air
It’s the beginning of autumn
And soon will come the billows of snow
Did they take journey to a summer, in a far away land
Where oh, where did the butterflies go
Hopeful but its so mundane
Filling the hollowness with more empty pleasure
But it takes my hand and and walks me through this withering decay
Into the ecliptic silence,
Self medicated diluted dreams
A mixture of over stimulation and desensitizing me
Somewhere between ominous and beautiful
Letting the darkness consume my conscious brain
Until the sun can realign and pulls me back into this day
To overcome this strange numbness
Of self inflicted shadowing
Butterflies once warmed me up inside until I pulled off all their wings
Holding memories I cant forget while praying to a God who has forgot
But we are only allowed to keep the things that we have already lost
Sometimes living is not enough without sovereignty
As these flightless insects crawl back inside
Then perhaps through their death life would be more satisfied
Finger deep I draw a line then stand to face a blackened sky
I reevaluate Your presence now without You Lord then where am I
Because this is me You were my light, subsequently my faith has died
Somewhere below the surface of this shifting unstable world of mine
B asking in the sunshine
U pon a lovely flower
T reating on its nectar
T hen moving to another
E njoying nectar anew
R ising with the breeze
F loating in the air
L ovely to view in the
Y ellow glowing sunshine
A beautiful sunset,
a painted picture in the sky.
The clouds dared to take it away,
but the sun shone through
over this breathtaking horizon,
I always knew with you,
there would be a reason.
I always believed in you,
my heart whispers you are speaking the truth.
I find blithe safety and trust in thee...
please don't ever leave me.
You'd miss this beautiful sunset,
our memories you'd soon forget,
would you want to risk that all?
Giving up everything for nothing...
who'd be there to help you up
if ever you took a fall?
Who'd be there, but me?...
Who'd remember it all?...
A cold wind sets in,
I search for you...
A ray of sun finds a sparkle of hope
inside of my heart, I see you standing still, proud, and tall.
There you are.
A butterfly in my soul, how happy, how joyful.
With this one last sunset before the end of our time,
it paints a beautiful picture across the sky.
Forever a butterfly fluttering,
enchanting in my mind.
And so you fly away, transforming in the light.
Tears stream down my face,
a broken heart, a sad goodbye.
We will soon be together again,
a promise until the end.
Love will last forever,
forever will find us in the end.
I do not know?
Stunted growth, some seedlings need both sun and rain
The sun went
away, never returning again Seedlings into striplings
grown warped and
weak Striplings become plants, prospects bleak To bear fruit, to
spread its own seed Was a forecast none could have
Until came a butterfly bold, beautiful, unique It cared
not that the
plant was weak It would land on plants upon whom others never settled
Taking a chance, willing to test their mettle It thought
spring the weak plant could bloom Giving nourishment and shelter the
On came the weak plant to fulfil the butterfly’s trust
and higher it knew it must For the butterfly was also
but the weak plant had it left They stood alone together
trying to grow The butterfly waited for changes to show
Time elapsed, spring came and went
The butterfly grew tired of all the time it had spent
had kissed the plant with pollen and strength The weak
bloomed, didn’t grown in length
The weak plants roots sunk deep in soil too fallow The
couldn’t save one with potential so shallow Leave the
weak plant, the
butterfly knew it must Find a strong plant in whom it
knew it could
trust Alone the weak plant knew it would live Deep roots
in bad ground
life would give However weak forever it would remain
Hopes to grow
strong torn forever in twain