I Was Birthed In the Middle of the Middle Ages
A BUTTERFLIGHT’S MR. RIGHT
Last night was television and going to sleep at eight
You were exhausted even though it wasn’t very late
So upon your pillow placed placidly lay comforted by soft
Until your weakened eyes closed and dreams lifted you aloft
In the dream you can’t really fly but it feels as if you do
Everything was vivid, the violet, the green and the blue
Flowers were everywhere and you cherished each one
While subconsciously you prayed this dream would never be done
Little children’s laughter echoed through the city where ever you went
And when angels whispered in your ear you knew not what they meant
You were headed for Mrs. Lopez’s little bodega where everything’s on sale
And she always has an amusing anecdote and laughs at herself after each tale
Milk, eggs, bread, butter and all that’s essential
And then the angels whispered, “this day has potential”
You headed home confused by what the seraphim had said
But in reality you were sleeping snuggled in the warmth of your bed
So back to the dream and it’s glorious end
With nary a scene no one need mend
You finished purchasing everything you’ve penned
Alas on the way home you dropped a package and a handsome man said “Pardon me but I’ve
a hand to lend”
And suddenly you recall what the angels said and you began to understand
And pictured this perfect pair sitting atop a dune carved out of sand
It was either the Mediterranean or the Caspian Sea
As you walked shoeless and he whispered, my sweet, it’s just you and me
With a wink and a yawn you awake in the very same bed
But still wondering about those angels and what they had said
Still you arose to shed lingerie for a lovely little skirt and a sweater
You tell yourself it was just a dream but reality would be much better
So that morning you were walking to work still wondering all along
It doesn’t matter what those angels said because even they can be wrong
Suddenly you drop your briefcase when you see a handsome man begin to bend
And then those angels made your Mr. Right say, “Pardon me, but I’ve a hand to lend”
© 2011.…phreepoetree
Girl, the worst kind of butterfly to be is in a collection smooshed between two panes of glass in
someone‘s beautiful collection …..don’t let happen to you!
Copyright © Jeffry Cohan | Year Posted 2011
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