Butterfly

April 15, 2017September 2, 2017

White Flags Flying

Excitement palpable within me
butterflies dancing
fluttering wings beating
against my stomach

every year the very same
each time I am dreaming of
tall pines, pine cones
needles making

a blanket beneath the tent
heavy and green smelling
of musty canvas
and flags

waving on a line strung across
our site by dad
clean diapers drying
marking the spot

where the tent is pitched
a Coleman stove sets
ready to cook a meal
a lantern lit

lighting branches a reflection
a glow of campfire
the sky filled with stars
happiness overflowing

This is in response to Jamie Dedes’s Wednesday prompt which you can read more about at https://jamiededes.com/2017/04/12/played-on-the-jersey-shore-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue file & digitized by myself.

Camping Pines

November 3, 2016September 2, 2017

The Breath of Spirit

I use to pray when asking or wanting
was all I thought there was
when I used the energy of my being
as if kinetic magnetic waves
to bring me absolute truth

when now with years of searching
I find that closing my eyes
to breathe quietly within
the mist begins to clear as
though sun rays warm my spirit

the dew drops melt on blades of grass
to find me walking a deserted shore
where the ocean winds touch my hair
and the watery brine is lifted thus
to coat my skin with salty jewels

where words are not labels or script
but the beauty of butterflies laced
with birdsong and seeded with pearls
that transcend time and space
filling my soul with balm and peace

This has been posted on Jamie Dedes’s site for the Wednesday Prompt. If you would like to join in please visit her at https://musingbymoonlight.com/2016/11/02/breathless-between-language-myth-a-poem-and-therein-is-your-wednesday-writing-prompt

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

spirit

July 3, 2016

No longer do I count life in years holding dreams
of newness of a younger love when each day
spilled over in the smell of scented flowers
when the air after the rain fell spoke
of clean, sweet beginnings and new meanings

I now count life in tomorrows obliged of sun
with nights counting blankets of stars
where they meet at dawn and part company
knowing there cannot be one without another

No, I no longer count life in years that promise
with the energy of youth who cannot wait for
hours nor even minutes as they peer at clocks
eager anticipation of the next moment
and the next and the next never knowing

That the time comes when tomorrows will become
as cocoons breaking open to free butterflies
the warmth of the sun as welcome as the rain
and the night a time of dreamt memories

Now I count life in every tomorrow promising
that there is another day in sun or rain
with nights in the company of radiant stars
with hope in becoming as butterflies
regaling in the nectar of scented flowers

Image Taken From The Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

Butterfly Nectar

November 15, 2011

Confetti Butterflies

Fierce strong winds
unrelenting
as trees are rendered
powerless
leaves harnessed
as branches are picked
clean
thrown free a brilliant
confetti
displaying colors of
reds, yellows, golds
butterflies
strewn about along
streets and gutters as
carpets
clogging city drains
quieting footsteps
the warmth of nature
embroidered