Oh how I miss the butterflies

Oh how I miss the butterflies

A Poem by willweb

~

 

Beyond the chipped paint and tarnished handle

of this old screen door once waited a garden,

a winding path of stone and dirt

I had walked many times in my life

that led to a place of wondrous beauty,

poetic blooms and intoxicating fragrances

 

Merely stepping beneath the Jasmine covered arbor

lifted spirits and illumined hope that all was right,

and the butterflies, oh the butterflies, winged effervescence in

sapphire, indigo, tangerine and lemon butter yellows

floated from flower to flower creating

the most wonderful dancing rainbow for the eye

 

I still smile when I hear those old rusted hinges squeak

and I feel that fresh air meet my face

For those memories linger in my mind,

as now I find the path overgrown, the arbor splintered and fallen,

the vibrant garden a mass of weed and vine

strangling the beauty that once flourished

 

And I understand, life changes…slowly,

each of us deteriorate within time’s grasp, returning

to where we began, covered in lawn and dew

beginning anew or to be forgotten…

an occasional thought that passes

down another path of another life

 

Now as I stand gazing at what once was,

a tear finds my cheek, meandering over these wrinkles

gathering in the corner of my mouth…salty

yet it is not the garden nor the whimsical path

that collects in my mind…it is the butterflies,

oh how I miss the butterflies…

 

~

 

© 2022 willweb


Author's Note

willweb
Thank you for reading

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

Had not previously read this
Another winner
I was recently given a book by Mike Yip, a van isle native who had done quite a few bird books, but this was on butterflies
velly interesting U betcha!!

Posted 10 Months Ago


A beautiful poem, full of hidden thoughts, full of times past and the sweet beauty of small means more. There is little better in a garden than watching butterflies flit and wander flowers and shrubs, especially buddleias. I once stood as close as could to a common one, (skip the Latin) and actually had them on my cheeks and neck.. it was magic. Rather like teeny kisses, reminders of.. take your choice. This poem is a delicate, near fragile one. Precious.

Posted 10 Months Ago


After reading through these lines, I am thankful to have got a beautiful taste of the feelings you have poured into this write. The garden is still there indeed, as are the butterflies in their wondrous illuminated spirit.

Posted 10 Months Ago


The garden grows old, but it is still alive in your mind.

Posted 10 Months Ago


This is a bit of a coincidence Will, having recently got rid of all the interior door handles and replaced them with new and shiny (well, not shiny but matt black) ones and even sorted all the squeaking hinges too.... Big mistake!
I just realised how those noises of our homes, from creaky floorboard to creaky doors become a part of our lives and I can't still believe it, but I can't get used to the non squeak of old and wish I hadn't bothered.
Those somehow became ingrained and filed under comforting sounds and it is very strange of a morn not to hear a squeak that has been an audio accompaniment to my life for years.
And now it's gone forever, I can't but help hear all the creaks and groans I make as I begin another cold day with a creak. 😊


Posted 10 Months Ago


What an absolute genius of a write this is. It speaks to me from so many angles I find myself reeling. I can picture the unkempt garden, choked with weeds. There is spring just around the corner, and butterflies have long memories(I made that up), a little paint, some trimmers, a little sweat, you can be basking in butterflies in just months. I'm already looking forward to it for you.

Posted 10 Months Ago


Beginning anew. Don't miss those butterflies in all reality they never left. There's still beauty in all the crazyness right now. Things just need to balance out.

Posted 10 Months Ago


Ah, the butterflies.....Will, I walked through that door and heard the hinges creak. Nothing stays the same, but memories are precious. The scrapbook of the heart and mind holds treasures. The imagery is stunning here and the emotions very relatable. Wonderful poetry. Lydi**

Posted 1 Year Ago


Dave Brown

10 Months Ago

excuse me for butting in but I wondered what you specifically planted for butterflies
we have.. read more
Lydia Shutter

10 Months Ago

Milkweed, Lavender, Asters, and Zinnias.
Dave Brown

10 Months Ago

sounds good
thankee much
I really love the second to last stanza. I find so much wisdom in it and just a serenity that comes with acceptance.

Posted 1 Year Ago


willweb

1 Year Ago

Thanks so much for stopping by and leaving such a nice comment for me.
light and ashes

1 Year Ago

You are very welcome.
Oh yes, missing the Butterflies, the Hummingbirds, the Ladybugs, and the Yesterdays. --- Well written and well said.

Posted 1 Year Ago


willweb

1 Year Ago

Thank you so much. I am happy you liked this one.

First Page first
Previous Page prev
1
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

138 Views
14 Reviews
Rating
Added on November 18, 2022
Last Updated on November 18, 2022

Author

willweb
willweb

TX



About
Hi, I am willweb. Maybe you remember me and maybe you don't. I have been writing here on and off for years. I pop in and write and read and comment and make friends and learn new things. I enjoy maki.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..