Long Monarch butterfly Poems
Long Monarch butterfly Poems. Below are the most popular long Monarch butterfly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Monarch butterfly poems by poem length and keyword.
The Monarch Who Thought He Was King
Once there was a butterfly
who fluttered by a gate.
The gate was closed, that’s when he said,
“O shucks, now I’ll be late!”
He danced and pranced and shouted
and did not hesitate,
“I demand,” he said with power,
“please, open up this gate!”
To his surprise before his eyes
the gate did open wide.
“A lovely thing; I am the king!
I’m surely qualified.
I had no choice so with my voice
the command I simplified:
‘Just open up this gate!
I need to get inside.’”
He told to all who’d hear him:
“I am the King,” he said.
While some bowed down and listened;
some would not turn their head.
They huffed and puffed and scoffed away,
“We’re sure that you misread.
To open up a gate is easy;
like falling out of bed!”
His shoulders drooped, his forehead sagged;
his eyes filled up with tears,
“You cannot make me less a king
with your scoffing and your sneers.
I am the king,” he fluffed with pride,
“the ruler of my peers.”
Then off he flew without a thought
of all their laughs and jeers.
He fluttered to a purple bush;
the hue fit for a king.
And there he sat to contemplate
and other kingly things.
“I’ll show them all; the small and tall,
and all the scoffs they bring.
A proclamation for my nation:
we’ll hold a royal fling.”
From low and high, from far and near
they gathered close to see
the monarch make his grand command
and show his identity.
A thousand monarch butterflies
watched with frivolity
with five or six ambassadors
from the queendom of the bees.
And there he came with pomp and pride
the self-made king to share
he was a monarch butterfly
and worthy of their care.
He preened his wings and listened for
the sound of his fanfare,
but all he heard was rustling wind
which threw him in the air.
He crashed and tumbled to the floor;
they could not believe their eyes.
The kingdom they had counted on
was built on fibs and lies.
The king was crumpled to the ground
ashamed in his demise.
He let the rain fall down on him
from clouds in the gray skies.
And then he woke up from his nap
and turned inside his bed.
He saw the flowers of his home
of purple, blue, and red.
Right then and there he promised
and to himself he said,
“I’ll be the best of butterflies,
than to be king instead.”
Faustus was an inquisitive man
Obsessed with a burning desire
To feel see and understand
The secrets of God’s universe
He was not afraid to make a deal
With the power that can make him feel
Omnipotent standing on the mountaintop
With the whole world under his feet
In the Himalayan highest hidden spot
Enveloped in eerie silence sinking
In the clouds in full moons shine
He saw the universe widespread
In a plain pattern in front of his sight
Like a canvas of a primitive artist
Expressing the longings of his heart
In a few simple strokes of a brush
And hectic colors swiftly layered
On top of each other in a way
He could see the pattern
Slowly and painfully emerging
Through the surface of abstract
Landscape of shapes and forms
Intertwining in emerging storm
Created by his racing mind
He can feel his heart beating
In this colorful pulsating pattern
That was brought to being
The night he made a fatal deal
For the price, he could not afford
His suffering soul became homeless
And lost forever in the outskirts
Of the abandoned world forever lonely
He desired to reduce the unbearable
Complexity of the world around
To the simplicity of a human mind
So, he could savor it and understand
In his lonely cell inaccessible to the world
And open only to his racing mind
Not even his heart was allowed
To enter the forbidden realm
Of unknown scary threatening world
That he was discovering slowly
Inside his incognito psyche
Faustus desperately wanted to know
And understand the mysteries
Of the infinite timeless world
Imprisoning it in his mind
Like a butterfly flying away
Locking it in the darkness
Of his lonely cold ascetic cell
With glassy eyes staring
The magnificent pattern of the wings
Of the monarch butterfly
Getting lost in his own drunken
Desire that made him high
Like an addict who can’t stop
Just a thought that he is the one
Can savor the secrets hidden from men
In thick darkness protecting him
From anyone else glancing at them
By the morning with light reaching
The window and squeezing inside
Through the metal rusted bars
Of his soul’s prison that he built
For himself the moment when
He invited dark powers to come
Mephistopheles stepped inside
In white angels' alluring disguise
And collected his ultimate prize
Walking.....
I was walking...
Like I have done every morning
since we moved into this neighborhood.
I stepped back and my sight caught a radiant monarch butterfly...
It had four broad colorful wings, and very
distinguishable from other butterflies I have seen.
How can its chrysalis match the color of last night's sunset?
A somber yellow, streaks of pink and a tiny hue of orange
brilliantly shining between the Rocky Mountains.
My breath was taken away as my heart idyllically swelled into oblivion,
I remembered little Ella walking through the fields with her butterfly net,
so free and angelic...
I could have sworn I saw wings on her back, and a white light surrounding her.
Oh, she was such a beauty, that sweet little girl.
A picturesque sight for sore eyes.
This is the felicity I have always dreamed of.
A mother, watching her child grow into a miraculous child of God.
For she is a female descendant of myself but I see so much
of her daddy in her smile.
A continuous plethora of tiny bundles of laughter
and those big brown doe eyes that you can see a mile away.
You should've seen her last night.
She can not sleep without a dulcet of her favorite songs.
So melodious and soothing for her sweet little soul.
Every single morning she wakes rhapsodic full of enthusiasm and excitement.
Tomorrow she is turning ten years old.
Such a young lady who I am very
proud to call my daughter.
I have come to the realization that very soon she will be
evanescent and off to find..
her own life...
her own husband..
her own child...
In my jewelry chest I found my elegant sapphire necklace.
It just happens to be her birthstone.
My mother had given it to me
and now it's her turn to treasure it.
How can she be such a beauty?
How did I get so blessed?
Sometimes I think that I used a talisman to create her
she is so perfectly special and a tiny piece of heaven
shines when I see her hair sweep gently in the breeze.
The very next morning I was...
Walking..
and thinking...
as I encountered the trail leading to the river,
there it was,
the radiant monarch butterfly...
Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written : January 20, 2016
It’s 5pm and sunny in Ohio, 40 degrees
and dropping,
by dusk it will be grey turning to red
then black.
Where is the oyster shell now?
The heavenly picture
of a pale spume-tickled .
An unmarried Tudor lady
applies more cosmetic beeswax
to a Monarch butterfly.
I will see the road from my front window
for another hour.
At some time I will eat a cheese sandwich,
At the same time
Consequently I darkly develop
a sunny-side up dawn
casually dressed omelet.
A Siamese cat, coats a Knight
with heraldic tar from a nightjar.
A clay Madonna carves out
epicanthic folds
from an African twilight.
I believe in chains of associations
leading to all possible outcomes.
House plants rent a niche of bedrock.
Plumes of cigar smoke flutter
in airless Mayan canyons.
Factory farmed Quetzalcoatl’s
hustle the leafy bustles of housemaids
as they feather dust aspidistras.
Mind can join together
one probability or another,
one word to another,
words that seem unrelated
yet together trigger an image
that feels newborn.
An iron skillet, crushes walnuts
on a coffin of dead elephants,
a black casket casts kitchen shadows.
Here’s the thing, this power
that may seem like a weakness,
actually
is the way the multi-universe works.
Camels swim an underground sea,
sand dunes wave over a once boozy tavern.
Humpback whales
recite the scriptures
of aesthetic scarab beetles.
The laws of poetically possible realities
operate for you when you follow
your imaginative mind-stream,
all these co-dependent transitional factors
want to link hands.
A speckled moonlight
chases a hen
around a weather vane
while a barnyard tornado
whisks a can of English beer.
Congratulations, you are now a creator,
demonstrating clearly
that you are a child of God.
I'm walking through a beautiful meadow,
The long, tall grass has a tint of yellow.
In the middle, there's a hill,
Should I climb it? I think I will.
On the top sits a willow tree,
It's branches hanging peacefully.
I rest up against the trunk,
Suddenly I hear a "PLUNK!"
I look up to see a squirrel's nest,
It looks like quite a mess.
Winter will be here soon,
He's gathering all his food.
I picked up the nut that fell,
It was shaped like a bell.
I put it on a branch in the tree,
The squirrel brought it right back to me.
I held my hand out,
He crawled into it without a doubt.
He wasn't scared of me,
So I named him BraveLee.
We sat together under that willow tree,
It's branches hanging peacefully.
Then suddenly, a Monarch Butterfly appeared,
Fluttering around without a fear.
She landed on a luscious flower,
Pulling with all her power.
Suddenly, it came out of the ground,
To the earth, it was no longer bound.
The beautiful butterfly flew it over to me,
Laying it in my lap gracefully.
She landed on my knee,
So I named her Heavenly.
The three of us sat there under that willow tree,
It's branches hanging peacefully.
Then a cool breeze blew by graciously,
The three of us enjoyed it patiently.
Then BraveLee climbed up into his nest,
And Heavenly flew away into the west.
I sat there awhile yet,
Happy that we met.
I started smiling under that willow tree,
Wondering if they'll come back tomorrow to see me.
I'll give them a gift then,
Making us Forever Friends.
I started walking away from that willow tree,
It's branches still hanging peacefully.
Hoping tomorrow my friends will be back,
We found a peaceful place we all can relax.
The sun was starting to set.
So, off to home I went.
Form:
I had so much going on in my life
and that hasn't changed after you left
scars on my heart and in my head
and although i kind of wish I saw that before the email
i still have a chance to apologize
not to you, but to last year
for all the BS I tried to get myself into
because all the flags were painted lime, so that means you were fine, right
not quite
so i bleached my eyes white
you brainwashed me, and i was dirty
so i rewashed it
rewatched your videos for the last time
deleted them
defeated the demon in me that still wanted to be inside you
hoping that i'll forget your name,
because by the time i face my future
i'll know there are so many people with your name
and i played with them all the same way you wished you could
but youre the only one with that name
it's fine, i dont care
you wouldn't know if i'd remember because if I were you right now, i'd feel like that monarch butterfly i saw on the sidewalk
baking in the sunlight
unable to fly
doomed to disappear
i wish i could take a picture so i could show you
oh well,
maybe it was meant to be forgotten.
oh well, maybe it wasn't meant to be
just like you werent meant to be loved like she loved me.
and i kissed her
and it reminded me how it could have been you
it's a damn good thing i'll never be good enough for you
right?
I see a beautiful monarch butterfly
Gliding up in the backdrop of sky
Widespread wings caressed softly
By the sun and kissed by the wind
Arresting beauty of the universe
In the fleeting geometric pattern
Suspends me in numb awe
I see the complexity of life dialectics
Moving smoothly from one life form
To the other through reincarnation
Of one being passing through stages
So extremely distinct and separate
So uniquely uniform and wholesome
In one passionate attempt to reach
The perfection of lightness of being
Expressed in the pattern of wings
A tiny egg at the edge of a leaf
Of an orange milkweed hatches
Into a hungry caterpillar that is
Focused on eating and storing
Energy of leaves sun, and wind
Like solar panels equipped with
Tesla batteries absorbing sunrays
And converting them into energy
Of life then hanging itself on a branch
Upside down like crucified Peter
Slowly transforming into green
Magical shell that guards miracle
Of inexplicable transmutation
Happening inside steadfast cocoon
Where a caterpillar’s sleepy form
Mysteriously being transformed
Into a totally new living being
With one primary genetic ring
Holding the secret of life
Around which magical wings
Painted in arresting ornaments
Striking colors of stripes and rings
Butterfly emerges one morning
Out of the shell that she was confined
And flies into the blue open skies
Does it remember any of her past stages
Or each time she starts from the scratch
And sees this world in arresting awe
Over and over again as if she
Has never seen it before
Just like we do every time we are born?
My son Zach, I miss you so, your undying laughter, lust for life,
My son Zach, I miss your heartfelt love for everyone who met you,
My son Zach, I miss you racing your car around the races at, burning rubber,
My son Zach, you are forever in my thoughts, you are the birds singing me awake.
My son Zach, my heart aches for you each and every minute of each new day,
My son Zach, I miss us eating together, laughing, watching sports,shooting the breeze,
My son Zach, my pain is constant, my tears are flowing, but I know your at peace.
My son Zach, how I wish you were still with me, please give me a sign from above,
My son Zach, I close my eyes, and I see you as that sweet, smelling, baby boy,
My son Zach, when I think of you, laying against my chest, after you were born,
How I wish I could have taken all your pain away, but now in heaven, your smiling, laughing, the Good LORD has done for me, he is with you always, be at peace my beloved son, my baby boy,
For my son Zach, I know that one day, we will be together once again, until then,
Sarah, your son Zach says, " mom don't weep for me, remember me with smiles, laughter, jokes, for I am in the wind that blows in your hair when you ride your bike, the sunset at night, the birds that sing in the bright early light, I know you are hurting, please go out and share my life with those who are hurting, you don't need to worry no more, GOD has a plan for me, I love you mom, I am your son Zach, and LIKE the Lord, I am always with you."
"I love you mom, it's ok to let go, your strong, become a monarch butterfly and open your wings and soar".
Is a dream really a dream, or is it not as it seems?
Is a fantasy just a majesty of colored day beams?
To be in the shadows always brought forth trepidation,
but I opened my eyes to a whole new marvelous creation.
When I saw the beauty of my castle in the twilit sky,
my heart became weak and I didn’t know why.
I saw the glory of a world I had never known,
but it instantly felt like an unrealistic true home.
To feel the day dream of a reverie I hold dear,
gave me a sense of comfort I shall always hold near.
Surrounded by emerald fields and azure clouded skies,
freed me from redemption and opened up my eyes.
I see fairies and hummingbirds float all around the land,
as I watch a Monarch butterfly sit on my right hand.
This is no make-believe world or a dream from slumber,
nor is it a place for extreme lightning or thunder.
It’s a Shangri-La of idealism with stunning views,
carrying breathtaking colors of pink and yellow hues.
A bridge made of gold with a rainbow above,
a castle full of nobility, dignity and true love.
This grandeur palace reveals sweet luminescence,
carrying a whole new divinity and shining essence.
Radiant sparkles of blazing meteor showers at night,
and in the dawn lays dew drops only seen in the light.
In Winter, snow-capped pine trees do grow,
and in the Spring there’s a crystal clear river that glows.
I never knew I could live in a castle full of such fascination,
but I opened my eyes to a whole new marvelous creation.
Building Castles In The Sky
December 20, 2016
Nature's Treasures
A fleeting monarch butterfly greets me on my walk,
Fluttering about, the exquisite orange and black colour,
The conversation subtle and delightful,
Landing on a branch of green leaves of a bush,
I continue and i am blessed with a beautiful blue jay,
The white and blue wings spread like a fan,
When the blue jay reaches his destination,
A tall green spruce tree with brush like branches,
Perches there almost hidden,
I reach the crystal clear lake,
The mallard ducks glide across the water,
They swim in schools,
Learning how to swim in different directions,
You can see the streams of ripples,
The tall statuesque geese,
Standing by the lake simply there,
Sometimes their feathers molt.
And are strewn on the green grass,
Wildflowers grow by the lake, purple in colour,
The very detailed and intricate queen anne's lace,
Waterlilies greet the afternoon,
They have a starlike apppearance,
Exisiting in pods, papal white and pink,
You can see fish swimming about in the water,
Perhaps a rainbow trout or gold fish,
A ray of sunlight reveals their presence,
Godly humans visiting on a sunday,
Picnic baskets and nature walks, their favorite pasttime,
My favorite place to think and reflect,
An aged grey picnic table, sitting on a hill,
Frogs sitting on a floating old log by the lake,
Perhaps a green turtle climbs aboard,
The conversation area is silent,
Sunlight caresses the environment,
Nature's treasures with warmth and love,
A calm breeze refreshes humanity,
I know I am with God.
Author: Gwen Schutz