Oh how I miss the butterflies

 

 

Oh how I miss the butterflies

 

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,

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…

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading

Reviews

[Blue]

Breathtakingly beautiful, Jack... I always love your words and this poem is exceptional.

[Jack...]

Thank you so much my friend.

[Cassie]

This one couldn't go without shelving. I enjoyed as usual.

[Jack...]

Thank you my friend. Can't have the butterflies without the Sunshine.

[Rita L. Sev]

a tear finds my cheek, meandering over these wrinkles...

Those butterflies, hopes of youth, memories of carefree days... yes, something to be missed. But their gossamer wings are so fragile, they are not meant to last, and we learn to build our dreams on sturdier vessels. Wonderful imagery, Jack.

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much Rita. Though as age wears on the sturdy vessels become so much harder to find.

[Vidya Bacchus]

Life is everchanging what was here today is gone tomorrow.

[Jack...]

Yes it is my friend, thank you so very much.

[Vidya Bacchus]

You are welcome :)

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A highly descriptive and passionate piece Jack, well done, good read.

[Jack...]

Thanks so much my friend.

[Tina Louise UK]

Beautiful Jack, such a touching piece...enjoyed :) x

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much Tia. I am thrilled you enjoyed this.

[Baby Ricochet]

Rust and dirt have an old smell. I really enjoyed this poem jack

[Jack...]

Thanks BR...they definitely do.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i grab my net and try to recapture memories...recapture youth...i do it all the time...

but there are no longer butterflies...the garden is overgrown with age...youth lost and groaning like the rusty hinge that noisily reminds us...we are no longer who we were then...

and butterflies are so elusive.

[Jack...]

Thanks so much my friend.

[Lyn Anderson]

I kept thinking about love and the other kind of butterflies, but maybe that is just me. Either way, spot on imagery, and damn, I have gone through quite a few poems today, and was left only one tiny missing apostrophe so far.:) (Not here)

[Jack...]

Thank so much my good friend. I have taken to double checking my apostrophies lately...I wonder why? :)

[redzone]

Really love this poem Jack. How the story unfolds, how the squeaky screen door opens the garden's colors, the way the butterflies fluttered haphazardly from flower to flower, how you remembered the feel of your once life and the way you opened your heart to us readers to the love you once shared and still have... it's a wonderful poem Jack. Thanx for allowing us to see and read your butterflies...

[Jack...]

Thank you my friend for this wonderful review of my work. I appreciate your kindness.