Prose Poetry Butterfly Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Butterfly

These Prose Poetry Butterfly poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Butterfly. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Butterfly poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

The poem(s) are below...

Details | Prose Poetry |

In my summer meadow

In my summer meadow

Lavender colored milkweeds, growing between dark  purple butterfly peas, are 
perfuming the warm air. 
The color combination is especially pleasing to me; I love purple.
Perfectly round globes of milkweed are a magnet for bees, butterflies and a variety 
of other insects. I see lightening bugs among them. 
The buzzing of bumblebees, wasps and honeybees is accompanied by the chirping 
of crickets and the happy twittering of the meadow birds. 
Yellow Sweet Clover lends it's perfume to the summer symphony of soothing scents.
Tall spikes of blooming Johnson grass sways dreamily in the bright sunlight.
Right in the middle of a soft pink wild rose bush, a bright red butterfly weed is the 
center of activity for many species of colorful butterflies. A brilliant blue"Two-barred 
Flasher”  flaps it's wings as fast as a hummingbird, while the orange-brown Buckeye 
rests peacefully.
Next to the roses, a blackberry bush is promising juicy, dark berries soon, while the 
Mulberry trees are already providing a welcome sweet snack for birds, deer and 
A patch of wide- open orange daylillies is a cheerful spot over at the edge of the 
trees and an emerald- green hummingbird enjoys their offerings.
There is so much life and beauty in a small patch of meadow! 
I love it!

Copyright © Bridget Aubrey | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

A Butterfly Kiss

I felt it soft and gentle
Best taste ever
taking me to a strange land
where i long to be

I mounted on it's wings
Best ride ever 
taking me with eyes close
where nature makes me happy

I felt this wonderful kiss
best to win a heart
A butterfly looking deep in my eyes
And made me to love again

Copyright © Olivia Nimley | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

Watts Is Burning

Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Watts Is Burning
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: July/2014

Watts is burning, and the powers that be,
show no interest in putting out the flames -

Six fiery days of hell erupts, set ablaze by 
a racial city government of bigots, that are
intolerant to black people.

Police brutality, is at an all-time high -
and racial discrimination towards us,
is running ramped, causing the worst
racial riot, in Los Angeles,during the 
so-called Watts Rebellion -

Damn right, we are rebelling......rebelling 
against the corrupt city government -

Our show of strength,and unity, to standup 
for our rights,in the face of adversity, Is a
significant turning point, in the African 

The Watts racial riot, Is the worst in 
Los Angeles, history -

Arrest: 3,438
Injuries: 1,034
Deaths: 34

We are fighting for our Civil Rights,
Equal Rights, Equal Pay, A Right To
Vote, Better Living Conditions, And
Fare Housing.

Watts is burning, Six days of hell - The
racial uprising, has  cloaked the city.......
choked It, and strangled it, as dark plumes
of smoke, from gunfire and explosives,
ignite into a war zone, administered by
LAPD and the National guard -

War is declared on both sides, and neither 
side is resisting. Blood is shedding,
white blood -
black blood -

on the streets of Watts - The city's racial
 bureaucrats have put barricades in place,
to control a poor,and oppressed people,
confining us to our neighborhood's, leaving 
one way in, one way out -

And Watts, continue to burn - Officials don't 
give a damn, If we turn our aggression, to
violence In our own area -

Watts is burning, the Chief of Police,
have turned his head to the situation,
as fire rages all around.

The riot, told the story of South L.A., which 
was perpetrated by arrogant, egotistical 
whites, who felt superior to us -

Watts is burning, for six Ugly days of  Hell,
Watts, is on fire, and no one give's a damn -

burn baby burn
let Watts burn to ashes - Black Ashes,
cremated by bigots in uniforms, masquerading 
as human beings - No one gives a damn about
Watts, or our people.

Shout it out from your mansions in Beverly Hills -
Shout it out from the Sunset Strip -
Shout it out from your town car's while driving
on the streets of Hollywood -

Watts, is burning and  continues to burn.The 
rich don't give a damn about us, and the
conditions in Watts -

Burn baby burn! Let it burn to Black Ashes
Watts is On fire Hell is unleashed -

Copyright © Ken Jordan | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Butterfly

You pass as a dream, delicately dancing
       On the fingertips of my need
You flit beyond the reach of my hands
      That would beseech and capture
For a blessed moment your fleeting rapture!
       I behold your fragile perfection
And wonder at your compelled 
      And silent exile within the cocoon
Where you surrender and yield
      To Nature's determined loom
But oh, what sweet pleasure
      To dance upon the scented bloom
And sip at Life's treasure
      Beneath a flaxen moon!

Copyright © Sheila Sacks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Color of Autumn

I lie on the grass, still green and soft as a featherbed underneath, 
lift my eyes upward to the sky and feast on robin's-egg blue and 
bleached cotton candy. Mineature butterflies drink the last drops 
of nectar from faded blossoms. Tiny yellow wings fan the heated 
air while leaves drift to land softly on my skin and spray russet 
bubbles through my lazy view. I close my eyes, absorb autumn's 
bright notes, relax with heart and soul full of gratitude and peace.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Story of Mr February

It was almost sundown
Early in February
When the wind blew the trees down
When the thunder in conjunction with the lighting seemed scary 

But up in the sky
Mr. Blue looked down with a smile
When the Sun had to say goodbye
And the weather all over the town shared the same style

Down in the ghetto
Critical conditions were experienced
Poor houses were defeated, together with young stores
And it brought merciful conditions with high expenses

While around the city
The weather seemed to be curious and deliciously
When the thieves became stronger and high in velocity
And the weather results brought Miseries and a concern of Brutality

When that happens … It’s a sign that Mr. February is Back !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

By: NH Kandjimi

Copyright © Nelson Herculano | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |


"To love butterfly's, you must
first like caterpillar's."

                   Poet Ken Jordan

Copyright © Ken Jordan | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

Springtime Interlude

Slowly I am drifting, fluttering across a lush and green meadow, 
seeking out the life giving nectar of your flower. 
Your ruby red pedals spread wide and inviting, 
anticipating my arrival. 

Gently I land upon your silken but firm pedal. 
I kiss you softly as I move slowly across your surface 
towards the soft and sensual spot 
that hides your precious gift. 

Caressing and probing with maddening desire 
I thrust inside you.
Overwhelmed with ecstasy and pleasure 
I drink the delectable essence of your being.
I drink your life giving juices 
until I am drunk with your intoxicating liquid 
and can no longer feel the wings upon my back. 
I pull away to recover my senses. 

Slowly I regain control 
and caress you softly with my pollen covered hands 
then bid you farewell. 
As I lift away with sadness in my heart 
I am comforted to know 
that I will find you again next spring.   

Copyright © Thomas King | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |



Nestle between dancing trees
a rock bed creek
leaks out to the beckoning sea
leaving abandoned thongs 
peeking through the sands of time.

A proud lizard 
strikes a kingly pose
on his throne of dead wood;
butterflies dart to and fro
the incense smoke air; 
dirt, dry weeds and blooming flowers
share a common scene;
and on the brow of the crimson horizon
gulls play tag in the vaporous sky.

As if lions of Sisyphus
roaring waves gallop
up to the shores
frothing white manes
parted by knuckle rocks
anchored in sand.
Planted upon the seashore peak
a giant menorah beckons curious orbs:
its tallow fueling its votive purpose.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


its a prade
that don't fade
crowed streets or near
to watch

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Magic of High Tide and Butterfly Wings.

On wings and above oceans, in the days where it rained to the left while the sun peeked
from the right, and underneath magical dewdrop butterfly breezes, she stood in the wind,
in the freedom of imagination where windows were doorways to heaven, and fairy dust fell
from the ceilings that contained her heart...

above the roaring of high tide and next to the balcony where the winds untied the braids
her mother had placed carefully in her hair, her tiny hands lifted, up, towards storm
clouds and hidden suns...

and she blew, exacting her breath to dandelion seed releasing, and counted made~up nursery
rhymes, as she fluttered her heart...

and out of her mouth flew a butterfly, wings beating in the rhythm of love, her eyes
opened and she reached her palms to the ceiling, watched drapes fall from wings and....

fairy dust...

take flight, and she whispered in a voice intelligent enough to only belong to a little girl,

“Goodbye, my heart, flutter your wings to the sky, then find me one day, sprinkle me with
smiles, find me and take me...


Copyright © JeanMarie Marchese | Year Posted 2007

Details | Prose Poetry |


A butterfly sat on the roof of my life
I felt an instant hope to love again
It descended from my roof
Relocated at the center of my heart

The butterfly settled right inside my heart
It sealed all the holes in my heart
I know this intervention will last forever
My life has become brand new

Oh! Lovely is its nature
Trademark of love it possesses
I am convinced a butterfly 
Touched my life
Now I am on it wings
To truly fall in love again

Copyright © Olivia Nimley | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |


Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Free
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: July/2014

A butterfly 
floating by 
 space - 

as the wind.....

Free fluttering 

No worrisome thoughts
of debts owed,

a butterfly,
to pay -

I wish that I 
was a

on a breeze
the sky -

Free - 


the wind.

Copyright © Ken Jordan | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |


your on my mind
all the time
you are my sunshine
i think you  in this way

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |


One of the Gods great creation I've seen On the flowers, rifting across the sky. She glides, she dives Fluttering along the sky. She flutters and flies, dances And glides and again dives. Her wings are most beautiful, Graceful, varied and enchanting. Colored wings that catch the eye Shine just like sunlight rays. Eyes sparkle as the stars Kisses the petals of flowers. Flirting outrageously with Each and every flower, The delicacy of her wings Can defeat a beautiful teen girl. She, Thou beauteous thing, Gambol over the flowers To sip the nectar. I've seen the Gods great creation.

Copyright © Chittaranjan Dey | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

the butterfly effect

if i could rewrite my life’s story
would it change my destiny?
and who i was destined to be

could i have prevented the death of a friend?
of would more loved ones have died? 
because i was not by their side

would more kids have been born?
as of now i have no need for santa’s toys
cause i have yet to conceive any girls or boys

would i have been able to cast my vote for the 44th president?
or have passed on and not seen the dream fulfilled
many passed away to young to even conceder writing a will

changing the past could very well alter the present
as i look back at my life and reminisce 
i say to myself i could have done that should have done this

i know that i can’t change the past 
and trying to change the world has yet to be done 
all i can change is my future and hope that my living meant something to someone

one man may not be able to change the world 
but one man may be able to plant the seed 
that will motivate the reluctant to lead

Copyright © Samuel Byrd | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Last Spike

                                                            The Last Spike

Helios orb peers cautiously
 with guarded optimism
 through cracker-slatted clouds
as Thor's divine implement
 shatters the morning stillness with the clap of a sonic boom

Mere mortals assigned Herculean tasks
 trill a gospel cadence,
 their labors heralded as glistening ribbons stretch yon and hither,
 a tribute to their genius 
and their genesis

Now, as the celestial cotillion materializes 
in the ebony overhang
 the spinning Mother bids 'Adieu'
 as the last rough-hewn iron phallus
 penetrates the porus creosote-drenched flesh

with a tempered satisfaction
 known only to Gods.........

 And those men who will be.
                                                       ("Hell On Wheels" final episode)

Copyright © ERWIN BRAGG | Year Posted 2017