Butterfly Poems

70

'Arcturus' is his other name—
I'd rather call him 'Star.'
...

Brown and agile child, the sun which forms the fruit
And ripens the grain and twists the seaweed
Has made your happy body and your luminous eyes
And given your mouth the smile of water.
...

An ocean swims in every tear drop
A river rejoices in every drop of rain
A thunder talks in every heart beat
The wind whispers in every breath
...

In a beautiful butterfly,
Your face comes so true to me.

Through a pretty butterfly
...

. « I shall remember while the light lasts
. And in the darkness I shall not forget »
. ['Non-Catholic' Cemetery, Rome: headstone 2515]
...

It was the twilight of the iguana:

From a rainbowing battlement,
a tongue like a javelin
...

I went to turn the grass once after one
Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.

The dew was gone that made his blade so keen
...

In the middle of our porridge plates
There was a blue butterfly painted
And each morning we tried who should reach the
butterfly first.
...

A caterpillar,
this deep in fall-
still not a butterfly.
...

Here on the Hard, you're welcome to pull up and stay;
there's a flat fee of a quid for parking all day.

And wandering over the dunes, who wouldn't die
...

I like you calm, as if you were absent,
and you hear me far-off, and my voice does not touch you.
It seems that your eyelids have taken to flying:
it seems that a kiss has sealed up your mouth.
...

Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
...

A little road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.
...

I cannot
and I will not
No, I cannot love you less
Like the flower to the butterfly
...

You don't have to go to the dale
To find her playing with a butterfly;
She would hide from you
As she is young and shy;
...

Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too,
And the daft sun-assaulter, he
That frighted thee so oft, is fled or dead:
...

An omnibus across the bridge
Crawls like a yellow butterfly,
And, here and there a passer-by
Shows like a little restless midge.
...

i like for you to be still
it is as though you are absent
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not touch you
...

I was pegging out your lime-green dress;
you were hoping the last of the sun
might sip the last few beads of drip-dry water
from its lime-green hem.
...

173

A fuzzy fellow, without feet,
Yet doth exceeding run!
...

The butterfly is a little charm and has love
The butterfly is from heaven above
The butterfly has a whisper that is calm
It landed in the hand of my palm
...

BUTTERFLY
By: Chan Mongol
...

Often Times, It's The Homeliest Caterpillar That Makes The Most Beautiful Butterfly.
...

As a child I wished to become ill not because I wanted to die, well that could be partially why, because I wanted to live, thrive but I could never soar like a butterfly I walked like a caterpillar waiting for the Chrisilist stage. I wanted to become ill to get attention the attention any child should be getting but me, no I gave myself the attention, I saved myself I advanced myself from the Chrisilist stage to the beautiful butterfly. As a child I wished to be sick to get attention and that attention should not be earned but given, graciously because they should have shown me the way to become the butterfly, to soar and rise and so shall I.
...

Butterfly! Sweet butterfly! !
I look at you in the divine morn
Flitting from flower to flower
Perching on petals under the sun
...

It happened long ago and yet the memory lingers…the day a butterfly stopped to rest upon their daughter's finger.

Somehow that butterfly sensed landing on that finger extended out…it was the perfect place to take a break…and she had nothing to worry about.
...

In the middle of the forest primeval,
There was a Menelaus blue morpho hovering overhead.
Assuming to ensnare my eyeball,
Rounding next to me, oh my Godhead.
...

Black butterfly fly
Black butterfly fly
Black butterfly fly
...

Chuang Tzu (pronounced shuwang zee) was an ancient Chinese philosopher…when one night a vivid dream appeared before his sleeping eyes…in his dream he was not Chuang Tzu anymore…he was a butterfly.

After experiencing a dreamworld where he flew from flower to flower…where he felt so innocent and free…he awoke only to find he was not that butterfly…instead he was Chuang Tzu.
...

We found her hanging from her chrysalis…one of those sad and unexpected things…a butterfly who died before she had the chance to spread her wings.

We're not sure why this particular monarch had to die…why her life was ended before she had the opportunity to fly…
...