How Butterflies Are Made
Upon the land,
where growing life grows
(quite unstoppable)
Such conviction to bloom
for the cool waters
and seek the sun's solace....
In the sprouting neath the frozen floor,
to even live but a portion!
flown through the waves of life,
fluttering to what end?
So easily taken upon the wind,
the thorn which pierces....
the lovely of speckled nuances,
winged, so gentle.....
surrenders with soft grace
to death;
But its brief beauty endures,
for angels blow their speckles
from their lips,
like floating leaves....
though they are alive,
Long enough to kiss tiny flowers,
and perch upon their crowns
flapping little wings of love,
they float the air ----
whims of the wind....
Dance as some uncertain notes
some lingering coda fluffs,
reckless first-leg-babes
(stumpy puppy legs)
Begging God for more time....
(to show off His speckled tears)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
