In a bowered place that only
Pixies know about
Tucked down between
The weeping willow’s boughs,
And not far from a singing rivulet
There lives a butterfly with gorgeous wings,
Transparent in the morning sun  
And luminous at twilight.
Her wings are patterned in chartreuse
With royal purple fantasies
That end in trailing gossamer.
Feeding on the buttercups and clover,
Her afternoons are bathed in a tranquility
That obviates the need to fly.
And so the gentle butterfly does not,
But rests and ponders what is on the breeze
That transforms air to symphonies
And blends with everything nearby
To make a perfect potpourri
Of serenity and peace.
ljm

On this day of gratitude and thanks giving,
I want to say that I'm insanely grateful for
Hello Poetry and all the poets who share it
with me.  Knowing I can write my feelings
and emotions and share them with other
like-minded souls has been an almost religious 
 blessing in my life.  And I want to thank you
all, each and every one of you.
And wish you a very
                         HAPPY  THANKSGIVING

I love the same way
the bees love my carcass
Cause my body feeds the ground
for flowers to grow

And I hope that you feast
on their honey
Cause that’s the only way
it’ll get to you

I love the same way
a bomb loves the fire
Cause when it kisses that is all
it can see

And I hope the war ends
in your favour
Cause only then all the deaths
will have worth

I love the same way
the birds love the horizon
Cause to follow it is to fly
forever

And I hope at their end
you will find only feathers
Cause then you’ll know that their freedom
wasn’t free