Sweet Butterfly, with wings now dry 'tis time to break away
and light upon the leaves of dawn while weeping willows sway,
not reminisce 'bout chrysalis discarded yesterday,
but treasure life, with colors rife in nature's cabaret.
Sweet Butterfly, I've heard you sigh "terrene so strange and new"
but take a chance, with winged expanse of fairy-like bijou,
to taste delight in random flight, to drift beyond the blue
and then collect her pearly nectar, sipped like morning dew.
Sweet Butterfly, you question why the breeze is seldom soft
when swirling you, your wings askew, while floating free aloft.
Some seem to find their peace of mind believing gods have coughed,
but others, downed, have often found more freedom when they've scoffed.
Sweet Butterfly, you needn't cry, the fields are full of clover,
like meadowlands of braided strands in winds and waves that wove her -
but if you fear that, more than here, the other side is mauver,
just flutter by, behind the sky, unfettered flitting rover.
Sweet Butterfly, farewell, goodbye, you've left the world behind.
We now look back along the track of flowers that you've mined
recalling days of light sashays and movements unconfined
that complement the firmament where beauty lies enshrined.
Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2014
The life you are living does not need to be the only life you have.
We tend to dwell on the past.
Leave it buried because then you can have the final laugh.
Everything exists to end in a photograph.
Hold that picture dear, and let the demons be.
Don't wallow in your own pain and misery.
Self pity is often too afraid in accomplishing any goals.
Crawl on out of that wormhole.
It's ok to be a little fish in a giant fish bowl.
Because of one downfall, don't mean you lost your soul.
The devil deceives us with that lie.
I hate to see tears in your eye.
Spread your wings and be free like a butterfly.
Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009
Once a caterpillar between a dream and reality thought she could be beautiful
~so on she dreamed...
Creating a shell to protect
under the bright new moon
Inside she wept
A fantastic fantasy of what she would some day be,
The very colors of life upon the the Earth as she struggled to crawl
A slow progression; every day she saw
in a mirrored shell
She dreamed her colors, she connected with divinity
as her memory recalled the sky so blue, the warm sunlight
To the very hope to one day fly
What color? her imagination touched God's heart
One day she emerged through the darkness, the seclusion,
The shell now out grown...she pushed her eloquent wings through
Standing upon a cracked open cocoon,
her wings tested the winds of kindness ~
Her first flight, she the Miss, fluttering about without direction or care, enjoying the Summer air~
The flowers sent scent to comfort, to rest there, she;
in awe of her wings, the colors, they were just as she dreamed!
I heard of a human tell of her beauty, then suddenenly became sad
Not for the glory upon, but the time as her flight would expire
Yet, tell me, what is time to a butterfly?
When time itself is calculated by man and the stars...
Yes, she and I know the majestics of God's creation that some take for granted
As the stars shine tonight
I think of the butterfly's flight
I know all is right
I know mans's calculations are right
But, somehow, it is not a sadness
but courage spilled upon the Earth
of the butterfly's rebirth from a worm
I, in all that I am can relate
I embrace, know her way
Once a worm as I, now my colors motivate my flight
Life is so short~
Copyright © Cindy Lu | Year Posted 2013
THE BUTTERFLY AND ME
tiptoe upon roses rise
playful in pirouette,
with the singing voice
of a clarinet...
Wouldn't this view
capture your eyes?
Swarm of honey fragrance
fans my cheeks and so my hair,
I turn around
and see a butterfly so flair.
I run, run
run to chase such butterfly with care
but pity, I missed
so I just stand and stare...
the curves and swells
of the hibiscus
is a butterfly
that dance in ballet hush,
tickling the petals,
oh! they bend and blush--
won't these two wonders
make a sublime meniscus?
Do gaze at a butterfly
say hello or wave a hi
colorful they are
but they only live for awhile
Blessed, we are given years to live by
but as colorful as how butterfly paints the sky
Do we also brush the whole world with a rainbow smile?
© O.E. Guillermo
09:57 pm, January30, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
Here I lie beside you
My heart goes thump.thump.thump.
My soul dances inside you
Reveling in the texture of your own.
Electric and flowing
The currents of our love
Glow like neon lights
Illuminating the hope in my eyes.
Though we're not moving
I feel so incredibly alive
Invincible to my past
Untouchable by all who lack
That gentle touch of when
You lean in and brush my face
Your lips grazing my skin
Softer than a butterfly.
And then you gaze into my eyes
I fall into your depths
Twirling like the autumn leaves
Melting into your smile
Your soul reminiscent of summer.
You pull me into your arms
And for a moment I'm lost
Breathless and in awe
Staring in the face of pure exquisite love
And there you are - holding it
Glowing in the moonlight of my stare.
My heart beats - its drum pounding away
Echoing a song thats lost its words
I touch your cheek and smile
My hands cant stay away
My lips s l o w l y, draw near yours
Hovering, and then -
Part, a soft warmth against them.
My eye lids pulling shut
Dragging me into a silent heaven
I pull away - and what seemed millennia
Lasted only a moment, a second in time
But this is our love
This is what you do to me
You make me invincible and fragile
Lost forever in a beautiful reverie.
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013
I always dwelled on my faults
never saw the beauty others saw
hidden beneath the insecurity
falter in search of validation
from the things and people that
would never mean a thing
trying to hide
until that day it was easier to face the truth
or maybe not easier just a time
where running away and cheating myself
ripped through the core of everything that is me
you come to a point where lying to yourself
is not second nature anymore
trapped in a space where you know
it’s time for change
it’s time to take the blindfold off
time to embrace you
and not what others see,
not look for gratification from outside
try to feel within, even if it means
having to deal with pain in the now
instead of chucking it away
and bounce around on an emotional see-saw
Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2012
Floating in the air
Wavering in the breeze
land with ease
(in my stomach as I read)....
In the summer air
It's all around me
(when you are near ~so on I read)....
and oh, my heart skips
to the tune
so much different
(with admiration I find
the butterflies.... the beauty) deep inside.....
plain or platinum
Touching the degree
in which you speak to me
(where once upon I time,.... were butterflies).....
Yet I am still a worm,
trying so hard to be
beautiful in your sight
I crawl so willingly
(Yet beauty in distinction)
Free and falling
from the midnight air
into the great unknown
of the atmosphere ~
the flight (metamorphosis) of the butterfly ~
Note: Thanks John, :) March 29th 2011
Copyright © Lucinda Bulger | Year Posted 2010
Broken Butterfly Wings
Empty playground swings
tear filled, wide-eyed
a choking stolen
silence fills my being
as my love walks away
I see everything wrong
with the world
Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010
I had received lots of love in years past
I have felt all joys and pitfalls of it
No pain seems to enter my simple life
Love entertains me, that wonderful hit
I know my life floats above tender hearts
That which brings love, but sometimes avoids me
I move quickly this way and that in air
I have “dance of the butterflies” simply
My life moves in all respects here and there
Highs and lows of dance are of gratitude
Love escapes my lips to my gracious love
My eyes have passion that brings attitude
Contest: Dance of the Butterflies
Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle
I know it's a Quatrain...a Rhyming Poem (I hope it's acceptable)
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013
It's now the heart of the summer
Perched on parched, I on this leaf
Rains are forever cried for
To moisten and rid earths grief
Suddenly I hear a rustling
Corn stalks bend and sway
A creature just so beautiful
Allures these words I say
As I talk I feel their excitement
Describing this beauty so fair
Porcelain skin she is
With shoulder length blonde hair
Curvaceous now shows as she bares
As the sky mimics her eyes
Azure blues capture my thoughts
Whilst the clouds begin to cry
A light shower falls
Cobb's become pert at attention
Words described through my eyes
My thoughts in quiet mention
To a filling creek she walks
Slowly immersed in natures champagne
As the heavens caress her body
Translucent pure virginal rains
Her hands caress her body
Blonde hair, now a wetted mane
Droplets run down her curves
I, a Butterfly, in distant frame
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011
~With a red cloisonne butterfly welded
to the end of the metal, the wire, I wrapped you
and cut off the circulation in my pinky finger.
I laughed with a nervousness
given to caffeine,
and popped two sticks of peppermint gum
in my mouth.~
"Always remember me", you said with a smile
of darkness, of truth, to insanely beguile
the roof off my brain, pulling all of my thoughts
to the sky to condense, concreting the pain.
(Conundrum to imprison a butterfly brightly
to metal in what looks like nail polish red
Funny to think that this same time next year
I'll still be here thinking the things that you said
You will be breaking up wine glasses toasting
and you will be setting the sun every night
and maybe you'll think of me somewhere
in passing, but somehow I can't think that that would be right.)
I never liked cloisonne, I'd rather remember
the moment I met you when all was still free
and nervously, as I unwrapped my desire,
I'd rather it there, that you remember me.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
I do not know?
When I was a child and my dreams were of gold
I always believed everything I was told,
my faith was implicit, my innocence pure
and magic existed, of that I was sure.
My old uncle Arthur was always in bed
his twinkling eyes sunken into his head,
he told me his stories of dragons and elves
that lived in the books on his library shelves.
On the table that stood at the foot of his bed
was an old leather box coloured purple and red,
and the lid was embroidered in threads of maroon
with the soft shining face of the man in the moon.
I asked him to show me what rested inside
and he said " Press the button, and open it wide!",
then up from the box with a deep whirring sigh
rose a magic mechanical gold butterfly.
It fluttered its wings as it gently spun round
Its beauty serene in the absence of sound,
and I was entranced by its magical flight
as it bathed in the flame of the candle's soft light.
As I lay in my bed with my head in a dream
I still could imagine the butterfly's gleam,
so I made up my mind to go back the next day
to watch the gold butterfly flutter and play.
But when I got there, the old house was in gloom
my old uncle Arthur was gone from his room,
and even though mother had tried to explain
I never did see uncle Arthur again.
That night I slept soundly, in dreams of delight
at the dawn I awoke to the morning's first light,
and there on the desk, by the side of my bed
was an old leather box coloured purple and red...
Copyright © Keith Robson | Year Posted 2006
Wings Of A Butterfly
Hearts are fragile like the wings of a butterfly
They can tear with the slightest of touch
Delicately woven with such beauty
They can not endure too much
Yet give them room to fly
And they will soar through the air
Freed from the chains
Of burdens and cares
Give them love and compassion
And they will strengthen with each flight
Give them positive attention
And they will sparkle against the light
Appreciate what they have to offer
And they will return to you ten-fold
Enjoy their many colors
And the beauty that they hold
Copyright © Jeff Morehead | Year Posted 2011
I was with my daughters at their favorite playground. I watched them chase each other
around the merry-go-round. Laughing and enjoying the extremely pretty day. I watched
them among the other children play. I couldn't help but smile, hearing their shrieks of
laughter made life worthwhile.
As I watched my girls have a fun time. In my mind I began thinking of a rhyme.
Something new. Life is so beautiful and it's something I value....
People found love but they lost it. Sometimes life can leave you emotionally
exhausted. I thought about the two people who remain married even though it's all for
show. A spouse is betrayed with a Judas-kiss. They remain married so things appear great
on the surface. But why? Why live a lie? Isn't she tired from wiping tears from her eye? I
can't be her samurai and protect her if she don't let me in. I told her hearts don't break they
just bend. She tells me she'll never marry again. Why? Because of one guy? That's
unheard of! There is only one kind of true love, but there are a thousand imitations. She
knows people go through trials and tribulations!
My thoughts were momentarily distracted, watching a butterfly in the sky. I thought -
Be like the butterfly, be free; Hold my hand walk with me. She tells me people can't seem
to stay committed. I'll be the first to admit it. She's right and I understand her pain. I lost
my appetite and I thought I too would go insane. My wife left me for another man. I did not
seem to understand. I searched within myself for the source. I thought I was to blame for
her filing for divorce. But hey, life goes on. I need to let my friend know, I refuse to let her
go through her struggles alone. I will be her back bone!
As I pictured her in my minds eye. Several feet away I watched a beautiful butterfly.
He had a long run if this was the same one I saw in the sky. It's wings fluttered coming
closer towards me. It landed on my knee. So many bright colors and different designs were
on it's wings. I heard Brianna and Jasmines voices calling to me to come push them on the
swing. Their voices played melodies on my heartstrings. My mind shifted again to my friend
who's like sunshine in the spring. She needs to know Cupid now has a finer bowstring!
I looked up at the sky and watched the butterfly begin it's journey anew. Life is
beautiful and it's something to value!
Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009
From birth, you've been the gentle glide upon
my tranquil streams of morrow's sky alight.
You've curved the earth and spanned blue wings in flight.
Through life, you float on rising streaks of dawn.
Through life, in motion, in your sun-kissed face,
your path is shown to me in dusky wink,
for depths thus stir and soften reds to pink.
From birth, you sprang from light's eternal grace.
From birth, you've been a hue so blush in truth,
bold, free and bare, transformed in dance and death.
As breezes tame, you flow like heaven's breath,
and through life's beauty, days return to youth.
From birth, I changed for you and you for I.
Through life, we drifted like blue butterflies.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2017
Jump into pistachio talc
and fly on mists a'sparkle
Dripping off me is butterfly dust
Stand up and you can follow
Dive off the chair you sit in
to streams filled thick with cider
Nap on webs of candied cotton
strung strong by the sugar spider
Open your eyes under water
Catch up with me high in flight
Tether your wings to the sea horse's daughter
as she swims in the moon beams at nights
Sullied clouds fall past the ocean
sleeping on silver tide's arm
Drowsy me now from this butterfly potion
sleeping in ribbons and lavender charm
Imagine the ocean alive
with flutters of wings on the tide
Strip all your preconceived notions
and watch with your eyes open wide
Glisten in green innuendos
Sparkle and shake out your wings
I'm a whisper of water, a glint of delight
taking flight on the brink of impossible things...
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2005
(W)- A real woman knows that the wages of sin is death so she is not concerned about the wages of a real man, because money comes and goes like day and night; but true love comes just every blue moon. A real woman isn't loud and doesn't have to be the center of attention. Money is a gold-diggers virtue, while patience is a real woman’s virtue. A real woman is always wary of the image she displays to the world because she knows her children are watching her every move. A real woman’s wisdom comes from the teachings of her elders and the experiences and hardships life brings. A real woman is the wings that help a broken man learn to fly again. When you become the object of a real woman’s affection, winning is the only option.
(O)- A real woman’s main obligation is to better herself, before she attempts to become someone’s better half. A real woman is very obliged with all that God has blessed her with. When a man takes a real woman for granted, she makes up her mind to put him away into oblivion. A real woman is use to jumping hurdles because overcoming obstacles in life keeps her on the right track. A real woman doesn't spend her time worrying if failure is around the corner, because she occupies her freedom chasing her dreams in her most comfortable running shoes. A real woman is a hopeless romantic ready to be wooed with an odyssey of love with a real man by her side.
(M)- A real woman’s presence is magnanimous and captures attention because of the poised and elegant stature of her classy nature. A real woman is like the magnet of ecstasy. All women don't attend college or hold prestigious employment, but for many being the Valedictorian of mothers everywhere is the major of their lives. A real woman respects the art of marriage and believes in monogamy. A real woman’s life is the motion picture of sophistication. The mythology of a woman began within a man’s ribs and ends in the beat of his heart.
(A)- A real woman sticks to her man like glue and never abandons his side. A real woman has the ability to do anything a man can. A real woman has the power to fill the abyss of a man’s pains with joy. A real woman prays with her other half because faith is the key of remaining on one accord. A real woman will amaze you with the way she adapts to changes in her ambiance. A real woman is the architect of her own destiny.
(N) A real woman needs a man to understand and love her for everything she is and for everything she is not because a good support system is a leading factor in longevity within relationships. A real woman is the nexus between love and happiness. When you converse with a real woman you will realize that she is nimble with her every response. No man can ignore the nymph of a real woman, because it is in her D.N.A to be notable.
Copyright © Tay Reid | Year Posted 2013
Below a Queen's lips and tongue
Lives a team of soulful bees laying eggs of honey
A sweet honey prepared for her soul-mate not your transferred puppies
A King's love that fills the other cheek of a heart shape
The one and only mate with multiple rates
She possesses a honey that's not to be shared with many
Or else her honeymoon will be
sour and blurry
training connections to walk steady
Attractions are like arrows of our errors re-shaping the meaning of our magnetic charms in oral
In the arms of venomous pick up lines
Lines formatted by your majesty and his lies
Intimacy can be re-scheduled by angry honey-less bees sometimes
Honey-less lips that rob intentions of a cupid greetings before vengeance
Those groups of angry smiles in lipstick gestures
Test driven by uncaring muscles
Intimacy can fake appearance in blurry actions sometimes
Below a Queen's lips and tongue
Lives a group of secrets connecting non-connectable connections
Omitted by options planted on the ground of a loving chest
Her moon is made of surprise taste-buds
Her smiles go pass oily men window shopping her love bites
Bites and love drawn by tooth fairies of two lips making a sandwich in between tongues
Without a taste,
life will be a waste
But don't waste your taste parading recognizable
cute lips unless you bought fate
We taste and rate with no money to pay attention to your age
Below your lips lives a priceless taste that heart-breakers sniff to taste
Know your taste
(c) Raymond Ngomane
Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2015
Life from a cocoon
This butterfly emerges
A fragile beauty
With a pair of graceful wings
Yet her flight conceals a bruise
Edward J. Ebbs - January 31, 2015
Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2015
I struggle and strive
I pump persevering flow
I knew I could fly
© Brenda V Northeast 18th may 2012
For Gail Doyles- Inspirational contest
Copyright © Brenda Victoria Northeast | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
Here I swing inside my dark cocoon afraid
to become all that I know I can be... A
Black Butterfly too scared to emerge into my
full potential and spread my beautiful black
wings. I'm so afraid to spread my wings, to worried,
about what this world may think of me? I'm a Black
Butterfly that can't seem to set myself free from this
cocoon that imprisons me.
I do know how the world will ever see my real beauty
that hides within me? The love I hide and the pain that
does consumes me.
I know this world can sometimes be cruel and rude place to be . . .
but if I don't break out of this cocoon and set
myself free? How will the world ever see me for me?
But I must first set myself free, so that the world
can see all my true beauty... and when I do emerge from
cocoon? A beautiful Black Butterfly is what I shall be.
As I spread my wings and fly into the sky… Fly away fly,
fly beautiful Black Butterfly.
Jay Andrew Anderson-Taylor
Copyright ©2008 Jay Andrew Anderson-Taylor
Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2008
I stepped into a world of pinks, reds, yellow, and purple.
Bee’s, butterflies, and hummingbirds flying free!
Long flowing stems swaying, in a soft summer breeze.
An aroma, fresh cut hay, teasing my nose!
Smiling, I recall that day… not so long ago.
Closing my eyes, I inhale a welcomed scent.
Looking up with dark green eyes -
I feel my Grandmothers smile warm my face.
Calloused finger grasping my small hand.
Pointing, she drew my eye to a small delicate thing.
Pink wings and tiny feelers, swaying in the wind!
She bent slowly, whispering, in my eager ear,
“It’s a Whirling Butterfly”
She said, with a giggle and a sigh.
Time passes quickly, like rushing waters of a fall.
In my garden now, pinks, reds, purple and yellows.
Bee’s, butterflies, and hummingbirds fly free.
Delicate stems, dancing, to music, of an evening breeze.
Movements, drawing me, to a special place.
Pointing, I show my Granddaughter the prize!
Excited, she looks at me with her big blue eyes.
I smile, tenderly at the soft red curls
sofly lying around her sweet little face.
Tears swell, in a dusty throat,
as she grasps my calloused finger.
She spies the pink wings, the yellow feelers,
swaying in the wind.
Whispering, “ It’s a Whirling Butterfly ”
I almost cry! With a giggle, and a sigh.
Copyright © Karen van Wyk | Year Posted 2012
By Laura Dee Battle
November 15, 2014
When I held your hand
Did you ever understand?
Could it be the way our stars align?
I prooved to be a flawed design
Did it show in my blue eyes?
I could have been the perfect bride
Never thought it'd be that way
I would've had much more to say
I should've been just as you are
Couldn't be much more bizarre
Did you see all that pain in my eyes?
See through my perfect alibis?
For you the makeup is your face
To them it's my mark of disgrace
When all you want falls out of reach
Identity is constantly breached
The fear on your face is leaching out
The seeds of doubt that suddenly sprout
Growing hate when the skies are grey
Loving my SELF despite what they say
Maybe one day I'll find they're right
Their way may too hard to fight
But that will be the day that I die
The final bed on which I lie
I'm begging you to save me please
Laura Dee; the man I'll never be
My breath is cold as the coming winter snow
But my heart is no longer six feet below
For the first time at night
I might be all right
Hope might be the only word
To finally stray from the mindless herd
I open my Virgin eyes to spotless sunshine
Now that I know her warm lips are mine
She is just like me; so free from our disease
Destinies for memories between the burning trees
Copyright © Laura Dee | Year Posted 2014
A puzzle piece you are to me
Like a vine without any leaves.
Your heart is pure your soul is
Gold, the sweetest thing I'll
ever hold! A miracle in my eyes
it seemed, knowing they said
no babies for me! Always a
surprise you seem to be just
like a puzzle piece! At 9 months
you walked but not until 4 did
you first talk! Always a terror
making a beautiful mess always
a surprise that has yet to be
met! The twists and turns I
know we will see will seem
somewhat like a roller coaster
to me! The milestones and
special gifts you bring will make
my life seem Like a dream, my
special boy I have always said
How special I knew not till
Aspergers they said! The
journey will be trying the
journey will seem long! But
with our family together we will
chug along! My special boy I
love you so and cannot wait to
see you mature and grow! Now
we have a goal we have our
dream you see to make you the
perfect fitting puzzle piece!!
Written by: Christina Kirks
McCullouch 04/05/2012 For
Jonathan S McCullouch Jr
Mommy loves you to eternity
and beyond! Forever and
Copyright © Christina McCullouch | Year Posted 2013
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell then came the ice, this went on for months.
The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.
They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves. Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday.
as they were called WEEDS ..
The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.
However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .
The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013
This is my life, don't you see
Pure jealousy has taken over me
My wings clipped and my neck broken
The demon inside of me has awoken
You left me heart and soul for the last time
Your words spoken as I caused the true crime
My body dies down and the cold breaks me down
Once upon my head, now on the ground a shattered crown
My lungs seize to take in more air
But i tell myself... he doesn't care...
I take my last breath and close my eyes
My heart says goodbye to the mournful cries
They all stand around and look down at me there
Some say I deserved it, some say is was unfair
An untimely death was one I was destined to behold
But this death was certainly... the most utterly cold
Hand placed upon my chest and my body dressed all in black
The memories of my in their hearts begin to lack
Lowered below the ground my body is taken
Never again for the butterfly to awaken
Copyright © Christine Jensen | Year Posted 2010
Just when the weight on my shoulders feels heaviest;
Just when my world of problems is making me cry;
Just when the crazies around me are at their craziest …
… the butterfly flutters by.
Just when I reach the end of the rope I hang onto;
Just when I am ready to ask the Good Lord, “Why?”;
Just when my head is about to split in two …
… the butterfly flutters by.
And suddenly, the weight is less heavy;
No tears do I need to cry;
The crazies regain their sanity …
… and the butterfly winks an eye.
The rope is my salvation;
The Good Lord gives His reply;
My head is in one piece again
… sing praise to the butterfly.
Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2014
Wave a sea softened
and a pain and a tenderness
throw dreams in fascination
of the blue.
And let shave the waves of
Your eternity , oh, weigh
oh,weigh a coast of years.
Carry far in azure, spiral
with bulging little abdomens,
flutter with mahagony pinions
and already in vain expect you
to stop the scales harbours
with hot flames for You are
Far away, far away ,far away,
heart and frank await the
hymn of June.
All sea sisters are dressed in
embroidered of kiss of
In the morning hunts them
fishermen and revive with
breath of their man’s hands.
In the evening girls wash
their black tunics,
in their blue hearts,
their feet white ,who cadge
The night is squeezed enigma
predatory like a bat pecking
of scarlet fig.
Sea sisters, sea sisters,
remember His steps
which go through you noiselessly,
and ou swing like
hold in His fingers Herod,
Pilate washes his hands,
in Yours heirs
and they bristled like winter
icicles bristles of innoncent blood .
There at Golgotha
hearing terrible cry,
blood gushes like
wounded river disappear
like Easter roses,
in weeds of flushed
to open way of
Who is He?
Do you heard
His name ?
He is Messiah,
Like little sheeps,
clouds of candy floss,
they welcome festivaly.
Barefooted are feet
of lovely swarthy steps
of the sun, came to bow,
before You , Creator.
The sea throws his
magnificent silver flesh,
blue like heavently lace,
to swallow all stars
pretty like uncreated
like an apple of not
Copyright © Nina Mindova | Year Posted 2012
I remember the very first time I saw you,
You wiped the sweat off your forehead,
I remember what all I use to say to you,
Followed my heart, I love you,
Maybe I needed to guard what I say,
Or express it in another way,
I hope I did you no harm,
Or is that what you call destiny,
Please know in your heart,
Eventhough how things played out,
My life and all its' worth,
Worth calling existing - living,
And without ever crossing paths,
My life would have been blah,
Words can not express how I feel about you,
Celebrate our love, if nothing more ever than be my best friend,
You are my very breath and hope of hearing from and possibly seeing you,
The very reason I make it through another day,
Our love we will celebrate far and away,
But in my heart, you are right here with me today,
I love you friend,
You make this world and all it contains worth living,
My heart smiles when it thinks of you,
I will somehow express my heart before I leave this earth,
So much I want to say,
I don't want to complicate things,
I just want you to be healthy, happy and carefree,
I know you love me,
You don't have to say it like I so often do,
I knew day one,
When I became good friends to you!
I love you, boo!
Best of luck,
Live like you were dying!
Copyright © Jason Fisher | Year Posted 2013
Sometimes in November
When the sun is sitting high
A warm Fall breeze will steal the leaves
And cause the trees to cry
Sometimes in November
A butterfly will appear
A cherished thought, a battle fought
For one you loved so dear
Sometimes in November
A daughter will pass away
You wallow in grief, seek relief
And then you learn to pray
Sometimes in November
An angel gets its wings
It's good and bad but always sad
Both joy and pain this brings
Sometimes in November
A family must say goodbye
As Heaven awaits to open its gates
To November's butterfly
Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2012