And Jane held the butterfly
in the palms of her hands
gently opening up
a mere gap
so that you could glimpse it
it tickles
she said
and she laughed
and that aspect of her
thrilled you
the way she held
her head to one side
her eyes in wonderment
of the captured butterfly
her soft hands
as if she were caressing
the head of a first born
see?
she said
see its beautiful colouring
and you glimpsed
the bright colours
it's a Peacock butterfly
she said
and she stood there
on the narrow road
to Diddling Church
in the grey dress
with yellow flowers
and the muddy shoes
and white socks
her hands opening
and you both watched
as the butterfly
fluttered off
across the hedgerow
out of sight
one of God's treasures
my father calls them
she said
still gazing where
the butterfly had been
a butterfly was a butterfly
to you
fresh from London
unused to the country fare
the clean air
the wide expanse of space
did you see many
butterflies in London?
she asked
guess so
you said
can't say I paid them
much mind
you are funny
she said
all this beauty
and it doesn't strike you?
you stared at her
standing there
her eyes wide open
her hands gesturing
as if to include
all about her
her dark hair
neatly brushed
her dark eyes
focusing on you
getting to me
each time I'm with you
and you explain things
you said
she smiled
and o that
really held you
in a sway that smile
that spread of lips
come on
she said
let's go look
at the gravestones
in the church yard
and so you followed her
up the narrow road
feeling the warm sun
of the Saturday afternoon
wanting to hold her hand
feel her fingers
in yours
sense the smoothness
feel her pulse of life
and you entered
through the wooden gate
along the stones
which made a path
the tombstones
high and low
chiselled names and dates
she stood by the church wall
and stared at the
beyond the hedge
you stood next to her
and touched her hand
with yours
your fingers touching
warm
soft
and she looked at you
and said
you can kiss me
if you like
and stood there waiting
and you unsure
wanting to but shy
not wanting
to mess things
or get it wrong
but you kissed her cheek
and then her lips
holding her
feeling her arms
about you
and you sensed
her waist slim
your fingers touching
and lips to lips
o God
you mused
confused
moved apart
she smiling
you uncertain
and she said
my mother likes you
says you're different
from the local boys
something that sets
you apart
you frowned
and said
am I?
kiss good
she said
not greedy
or too passionate
or too sensuous
but like holding
that butterfly just now
something tickled
inside me
she said
you gazed
into her dark eyes
as a Peacock
butterfly
fluttered overhead.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC
And Jane held the butterfly
in the palms of her hands
gently opening up
a mere gap
so that you could glimpse it
it tickles
she said
and she laughed
and that aspect of her
thrilled you
the way she held
her head to one side
her eyes in wonderment
of the captured butterfly
her soft hands
as if she were caressing
the head of a first born
see?
she said
see its beautiful colouring
and you glimpsed
the bright colours
it's a Peacock butterfly
she said
and she stood there
on the narrow road
to Diddling Church
in the grey dress
with yellow flowers
and the muddy shoes
and white socks
her hands opening
and you both watched
as the butterfly
fluttered off
across the hedgerow
out of sight
one of God's treasures
my father calls them
she said
still gazing where
the butterfly had been
a butterfly was a butterfly
to you
fresh from London
unused to the country fare
the clean air
the wide expanse of space
did you see many
butterflies in London?
she asked
guess so
you said
can't say I paid them
much mind
you are funny
she said
all this beauty
and it doesn't strike you?
you stared at her
standing there
her eyes wide open
her hands gesturing
as if to include
all about her
her dark hair
neatly brushed
her dark eyes
focusing on you
getting to me
each time I'm with you
and you explain things
you said
she smiled
and o that
really held you
in a sway that smile
that spread of lips
come on
she said
let's go look
at the gravestones
in the church yard
and so you followed her
up the narrow road
feeling the warm sun
of the Saturday afternoon
wanting to hold her hand
feel her fingers
in yours
sense the smoothness
feel her pulse of life
and you entered
through the wooden gate
along the stones
which made a path
the tombstones
high and low
chiselled names and dates
she stood by the church wall
and stared at the
beyond the hedge
you stood next to her
and touched her hand
with yours
your fingers touching
warm
soft
and she looked at you
and said
you can kiss me
if you like
and stood there waiting
and you unsure
wanting to but shy
not wanting
to mess things
or get it wrong
but you kissed her cheek
and then her lips
holding her
feeling her arms
about you
and you sensed
her waist slim
your fingers touching
and lips to lips
o God
you mused
confused
moved apart
she smiling
you uncertain
and she said
my mother likes you
says you're different
from the local boys
something that sets
you apart
you frowned
and said
am I?
kiss good
she said
not greedy
or too passionate
or too sensuous
but like holding
that butterfly just now
something tickled
inside me
she said
you gazed
into her dark eyes
as a Peacock
butterfly
fluttered overhead.
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