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

[BlackRose]

The more good memories the fill that part of us the more we want to relive or live within them again. I feel can feel the breeze gently caress me as I stroll through looking for those lost cherished memories. Exceptional as is your others. Superb!

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much my friend. I am thrilled you enjoyed this.

[Ruth]

The further we walk through life's valleys, do the memories come flooding in, I find that more and more of late, beautiful piece Jack x

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much Poppy.

[Sami Khalil]

Sad recollection of the lingering memories, of times when love was soaring on butterfly wings, when the dew covered laws with danciong colors, when winding paths were covered with stone and not weeds. Those occational thoughts pop up to visit us in our low points in life...A splendid poem...:)...............

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much Sami.

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:)..................