COCOONING IN AN AUDACIOUS POLITICAL
POWERING MONARCHY: 2025-2026
Circadian ticks,
Time-chart caterpillars of
Septic monarchy:
God’s butterflying wisdom
Canvassing divine guidance:-
It’s time for us to
Uproot inequality:
Sowing equity,
Let’s get to cultivating
Democracy’s divine abundance:-
Fertilization
Of renewed seeds of justice,
Must be daily done:
Ensuring germination’s
Deep-rooted, anchoring growth:-
With cocooning hope,
And metamorphosing faith,
Let us plow onward:
Butterflying equity,
And soaring democracy:-
Sown bigotry,
Must be made to rot away;
Plowed with damnation:
Extermination rendered—
Monarchical evil doomed:-
In God’s laboring,
Let us garden liberty;
Reaping fruiting peace:
Fencing true democracy
With shared equanimity:-
Beautiful winged flowers
butterflying in the gardens
elegant dancers
I sit with you,
My hand rests on your shoulder.
I read my book
While you sleep restlessly,
You have no clue.
The night is getting colder,
You have that look
of age-old tiredness sleeping,
of pain and hurt,
of hours of fruitless weeping.
I sit with you,
My voice a soothing rhythm.
I recitate
My poems, my lines for you
It's seeping through
Your troublesome subconscious,
inner debate...
Your eyes open so slightly.
I will be here,
I'll sit here in this chair,
And create words
To paint your world lightly
And colourful,
With butterflying flutter
Pulling you through.
I sit with you,
Because I care, I get you.
I know the pain,
I know this too will pass.
And you know too.
***
Copyright © Darren White
November 7, 2016
Was I, a butterflying dreaming...
feeling how delightful*spring was;
flowers in bloom and trees sprouting over the small willow,
were a fascinating* scene to reminisce when heavy snow
would have covered all those captivating*, lush meadows!
Dreams were a vision I believed in so firmly,
more than entrancing*...they were almost real:
enrapturing* all senses to lose sight of reality...
hoping that one of them would have remained unchanged,
encouraging me to achieve the realization of a dream!
Ah, another long year has finally passed,
and I have returned as a butterfly to fly and dream!
It's still beautiful with the waigtails merrily warbling
and the long, pretty bluebells frantically swaying;
this is no illusion: things are as they seem!
Written by Andrew Crisci
for Constance La France's contest,
" Daydreams, Dreams and Dreams...."
7/15/2011
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