A breath soft cinnamon is early
S p r i n g
not perceived at any other time of year
when two tweeny caterpillars cling dear
to one dandelion stalk sublime —
Shy LimeLight of green opens its legs
across yellow field — no scientist can
capture such subtle sheen
daisy clean
Heart feels its mighty loom alright …
It waits tentative as pink buds peep
from cacti who were in soundless
S l e e p —
Acacia stops shedding bare brown
splints — fresh mint bleeping
Noon arrives sooner sprinkling spritely
misty loss as Winter N o r t h w a r d
farewells
goodbye to woollen socks —
lullabies fade beneath mustard mohair docks
…
Southern Spring bells with clocks
C h a n t i n g
Chiming unlock
How speedy yet sweet the swift
how slow and sleepy the sloth
how creepy crawly the caterpillar
metamorphosing into a moth
how flutters by the butterfly
how groaning grumbly the grouse
how caterwauly the cat
wailing at night outside the house
how snips when shears the snipe
how doggedly dogs the dog
how hops skips and jumps
the tadpole now a frog
how kicks and bucks the mule
shucks how dodges the duck
that's the lot it's all I've got
there's no more so you're in luck
8 legs skimpering
like marbles with hairy legs
walks caterpillar
7/7/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
A caterpillar hit the sack -
in a chrysalis, as a matter of fact.
One day, it would crack,
and he could no longer doze.
As the sun rose up the sky,
a transformed creature said, "My oh my -
I feel it's time for me to fly",
and donned his fine new clothes.
I am a caterpillar with butterfly dreams
Aspiring to become beautiful with wings
Never was the tallest rose in the flower bed
And when asked to pose face turns ruby red
Wasn’t a cheerleader nor voted prom queen
Was in the church choir not the worst to sing
But there was one gift that set me apart
I used words to lift and inspire heart spark
I’m like a book worm a caterpillar that dreams
As long as I keep my stride I can fly I esteem
Dandelions roar
King queen of green grassy hill
Caterpillars feast
It concertinas over my skin,
around my wrist it trundles
on those stumpy limb nubbins
neither veering left or right.
Sublimely unaware of distance,
even when it lifts its round
jaw-bound head,
the yellow and black larva
searches only for a green world
to clamp onto.
I pluck it up from its lonely trek,
place it onto a Mulberry bush -
the fuzzy slinky pauses,
then commences to chomp down
on one more world,
a place that in time,
will be converted
to a yellow and black
grubbiness.
I saw a caterpillar sitting there
and soon we both began to stare
into each other's thoughtful eyes
as we sized each other up for size.
Our silence was quite unbroken.
Our words were telepathically spoken.
As he sat on his mushroom stool,
it was clear to me he was no fool.
Indeed, he was clever as a fox,
but had no feet, no shoes, no socks.
The socks he didn't wear had stripes,
like those a wicked witch swipes.
Me and that inchworm with mind, unmuzzled,
scratched our heads and chins and puzzled.
Under the illuminating sun,
what's won was lost, what's lost was won,
as we deconstructed history,
and unraveled every mystery.
Our work then, being handily done,
I neatly lied and said I had to run.
I bid adieu to my squirmy friend,
as my story reached a happy end.
I know a caterpillar and a fish,
but I won't catch and I won't squish.
I'm not sure why, but maybe because
one is slick and one has fuzz.
uh-oh, is Uncle Caterpillar smoking again?
We sent the kids out there to chastise him.
They called him names and bullied him and were horribly mean.
He laughed at their efforts.
They have nothing on my mother, he reminded us.
We remembered his mother.
She was a horrid old biddy.
He was right.
These kids didn’t put a dent in his smoking at all.
We wondered what else we could do to make him stop smoking
None of us remembered
it was not up to us
it was up to him
this poem written for Bite Size Contest no119 Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, sponsor July 28, 2025
METAMORPHOSIS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
caterpillar, clad in emerald armor,
pauses at the fence, a splintered barrier.
it inches forward, a tiny architect of hope,
navigating the spaces between
the known and the unknown,
as if the journey itself is a metamorphosis.
CATERPILLAR'S* JOURNEY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a caterpillar,
clad in emerald armor,
pauses at the fence—
a splintered barrier,
a threshold of dreams.
It inches forward,
a tiny architect of hope,
navigating the spaces
between the known and the unknown,
as if the journey itself is a metamorphosis.
For a moment it hangs,
suspended in the air,
its tiny heart racing,
reflecting on the fence
that separates the past from the future.
I watch, pondering upon its journey,
the courage it takes
to inch forward,
to trust in the unseen,
to embrace the risk of change.
*Note: Poem originally written for Haiku Shack’s (Creative Ramblings Weekly prompt) July 28, 2025. This is my original poem
The giant caterpillar ate my shed
That’s okay, the color was an awful red
With a burp and a grin, the caterpillar ate my cat Quin
Quin was getting old, I said, calm once again.
That giant caterpillar slid under my bed.
A place I no longer feel safe laying my head.
I am sleeping at the neighbor’s down the road.
She is missing her husband, her dog and a horny toad.
three bear cubs
walked out of the trees
onto the driveway...
they were coated
from head to tail
with caterpillars...
and spent the next
half hour licking the
crawling protein off...
it was not to be wasted
according to instinct too
prepare for next winter now...
len
"If I were meant to soar up there with you,"
said the creepy caterpillar to the colourful butterfly,
fluttering by overhead,
"and not stay crawling earthbound here instead,
I would have been born with wings,
and it will be over my body when dead,
akin to a murder of crows,
before you'll get me up
in one of those
funny-looking flying things."
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