Heaven's Drunkard
Heaven's drunkard is the butterfly,
Tipsy on flowers, Mr. flutter-on-by:
Papier-mache wings wafting along,
He flies on currents of invisible song.
He could stop but the flowers are so many,
Beckoning with pastel faces of plenty;
At night he dreams of hot-house bouquets,
And dances with them, a fine polonaise.
Copyright © Patti Masterman | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment