I'VE watched you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!---not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again !
......
No sun--no moon!
No morn--no noon!
No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--
No sky--no earthly view--
No distance looking blue--
No road--no street--no "t'other side this way"--
No end to any Row--
No indications where the Crescents go--
No top to any steeple--
No recognitions of familiar people--
......
Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry;
Take your walk
To the shady leaf or stalk.
May no toad spy you,
May the little birds pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly.
70
'Arcturus' is his other name—
I'd rather call him 'Star.'
It's very mean of Science
To go and interfere!
I slew a worm the other day—
A 'Savant' passing by
Murmured 'Resurgam'—'Centipede'!
......
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said,
Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead.
The dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt,
All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out:
Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand,
They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide?
They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide;
By land, by water, they renew the charge;
......
I am the queen of beauty the common butterfly,
I spread my wings and flap away among the trees I fly.
My wings exhibit colours of green yellow and blue,
red, orange and brown and even purple too.
I live in many countries and lands of different rule,
high up in the mountains or fields behind the school.
But I like the warmer weather which makes me feel alive,
......
I recall the rural life of the butterfly
Extravagantly —that proud floating mass of wings.
Her wings flutter from sea to coast so eloquently,
Yet silent with the muteness of frightened breeze.
They are banners with buntings of newness — striped,
Spotted, arched, dotted.
Her flamboyant life history, reading it backwards,
Is an exhibition of time and cosseted patience . . . .
The winged one, aged and tried, schleps to the stirs of a narcoleptic pupa,
Hanging on the banisters of a dear larva who’s egged on to
......
butterfly in blue
wafting skies we always knew
in orange-gold sun
redbirds sing farewell
a warm hour of green flowers
when still wind listens
to meadows and woods
minty lanes where beauty hides
......
Autumn is golden
mirrored in still glinting lake
Sunbeams through plum trees
Nature's so long symphony
when birds soar in sympathy
Tiffany skies chills
pink robin is still singing
to an empty hall
Last beats of butterfly wings
......
peacock butterfly
in wildflower touch and go ~
prancing in fragrance
sun's reached its zenith
the world has turned green again ~
with colors galore