Yellow Butterfly.

Gently flapping it's thin wings, 

A butterfly lands upon my fingers, 

And upon a soft breeze it leaves, 

Yet it's delicate presence lingers. 

 

Sunny yellow rimmed it's wings. 

With dark daffodil yellow rings,

Pure coal black traced it's veins, 

It's image - in my mind - remains. 

 

Such a soft and delicate brush, 

Of a butterflies wings, so plush, 

The softest touch of it's tiny legs, 

Lifted my spirits - well, the dregs. 

 

That butterfly, that passed me by, 

The messenger between land and sky, 

Has stayed lodged in my mind, 

I'll never meet another of it's kind,

 

A single butterfly, while I was alone, 

Came to me and my world was thrown, 

But I'll never forget that yellow butterfly, 

That left me when I let out a soft sigh, 

 

A soft sigh that came from me, 

Swept my butterfly, set it free, 

This is my butterfly that I'll remember, 

My butterfly from last September.

Reviews

[Lina Grey]

So descriptive and enchanting! This poem is truly beautiful. Thank you.