Moths Poems

FLOWERS THAT CAN FLY

May we be blessed when we see a luna moth or a butterfly
(at the risk of sounding lyrical)
to be reminded how life is made up
of so many tiny little miracles

moths

She keeps moth wings in jars,
fragile things pressed against glass
like broken promises.
She says they’re beautiful,
even in their ruin.
I ask her why she collects
what’s already dead,
and she just shrugs,
says it’s not about life—
it’s about remembering
what it felt like to fly.

Butterflies, Moths, Ants and Bugs

A butterfly lights from flower to flower
with golden wings, he whiles away each sunny hour. 
A moth comes out at night, while the world dreams,
guided by the light of silvery moonbeams. 
An ant toils away, working hard for the pack, 
dressing modestly, he's attired only in black.
I try not to judge, as I consider each

On Moths and Butterflies

You must never touch a butterfly

and fear its fragile wings

for if you touch a butterfly

what horrors your touch brings

 

The dust glitters as it falls

and the insect starts to wilt

for like the flowers on which it feeds

its lovely death brings guilt. 

 

But make sure to kill the moth

that ugly, furry thing

it's circling the porch

Poppies in the Corn

Soft flimsy red moths
settled like starving locusts
over brittle straw

why do moths fly in circles

why do moths fly in circles toward light at night?
Are they trying to shake pursuers, do they feel fright?
Actually, they turn toward source where they see the most bright
Which causes a circular or spiral pattern in their evening night flight.

Moths

They shun sunlight
but at night, moths
take flight; wings spread.

Moths

More moths play on lamp
While the Man keep watching them,
In His Kingly throne.

Moths Hiku X 2

a breeze in trees
tiny moths flutter like bees-
cherry blossoms me

mornng dew on a rose-
sleepy moths 
  start to doze

The Fate of Winter Moths

“the fate of winter moths”
sitting on the  stoop, concrete sodden with
the chill of late winter. the air
acquires a coolness like your first breath
after confessional. the Christmas lights
illuminate the porch in a motley of whites
and oranges. the tangerine glow casting
warmth while the sun is taking his smoke
break. Two sounds permeate the crisp air
rising up to

Heartless Moths of Time

broken fantasies
                inclement weather,
                dust hope
                 all lost
 

Moths Drawn To a Flame

Heartless beings only seek to feel the damage that they cause to others

Unknowingly, only being aware to see the damage that they have caused.

The eyeless ones mock the most strongest in envy of their abilities to deflect the repetitive back stabbings that they sought to create from misery.  

The enemies may stand tall and

Timeless Are the Moths That Spin

Light the oil, bring a candle,
watch the shadow show.
Night stuffs our minds
until our hands follow the moths.
See their wings, the brown mottled spans
as they lift up the stars.

Such moths spin our thoughts
this way and that,
turn the heart upon its gimbal.
Their wings flutter in the candle lit stutter.
There are rags to feed them, your cast-offs,
honor those

Photos of Grandmother

Photos of Grandmother
David J Walker

Grandmother has 
become a picture
That so few of us know
Things committed  to memory 
Fall short

A black & white print 
	Is creased across 
the face of the fading image

And even a perfect recall 
Of the last summers eve 
Shelling peas one evening
On the screened-in porch
Can’t replace all  of what we

Drawn In To Die

Midnight in village, 
No moon, no power, 
Lamp lit up by granny
Flickered with hope;

Lured by its flame, 
Moths spiral around, 
Making loops and coils
Only to get burnt.


Date: 06/17/2021
For Workshop: Adjectives Deleted Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jack Webster

• Short Moths Poems
• Famous Moths Poems
• Best Moths Poems
• Read Moths Poems
• Long Moths Poems
• Moths Quotes