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Mia J 12h
Oh, I wish I had the wings of a butterfly!
I’d fly far, far away
and land on the prettiest flower.
I’d indulge in its peaceful beauty and sweet nectar.
I left my cocoon long ago and the present is all mine to explore.
I grew and grew for many days until my shell was no longer suitable.
Now it’s my time to be who I am.
You see,
I come with many colors.
My bright ones add light to the atmosphere.
My darker ones send coded messages to those who dare to listen.

For I am one with nature but I lack the ability of flight.
Such an ability would help me flutter more in my true self.
The weather was warm with open arms when I left my shell.
Oh I wish I could fly with the other butterflies!
But perhaps it’s better if I’m solo for some time.
I may not be as fast as them and I wouldn’t want to slow them down.

The ladybug and the shining sun will bring me proof.
Should I ever have butterfly wings,
The smiliest and prettiest flower would be my first destination.
4-15-2020
-Mia J

© 2020 Mia J
This was composed in 2020
Carlo C Gomez Apr 25
Late October,
and they have assuredly returned.

A canopy of clusters.

At second glance
the leaves on the trees are wings.

Whisper into the dreamscape
for they sense your voice.

Revive them with your breath.

Hold out your hand
like you hold out hope.

The warm sound of flutterings.

Circadian clocks in their antennae,
a sense of where they've been
and where they are going.

The gift from their Creator
moves them in the right direction.
Why I never heard music so tasteful,
With a woman so graceful.
Falling to sleep in her arms,
As the choirs gently serenade us.
Lip to lip as the lights dim,
Hand on her thigh, just how she likes it.
I'll never be able to love you the same,
Not after feeling you like this.
Someday she's going to make the butterflies fly out of my stomach.
Red dress, modern cut, a nod to tradition.
Not gaudy, not simple, a balance found.
Her hand, offered, a father's blessing unspoken.
Pride mixed with sorrow, a future he won't see.
Love, honor, cherish, the groom's vow, a solemn oath.
Protection promised, a father's final duty.

Tears fall freely, a river of emotions.
Vows exchanged, a seal on a lifetime's journey.
The kiss, a declaration, a new chapter begins.
Then, a flutter, a swarm of butterflies descends.

One lands on her nose, a Blue-Spotted Crow, rare and bold.
Wings unfurl, a vibrant blue against her pale skin.
A message, a whisper, a father's presence felt.
She raises a finger, the butterfly shifts its perch.

A silent conversation, a daughter's tribute.
Prosperity whispered, protection assured.
Love remains, eternal, a bond unbreakable.
The Blue-Spotted Crow, a constant, enduring reminder.

The gesture, her father,
The promise, prosperity,
The honor, protection,
The Love, forever.
The Lunar New Year, and my dream last night was poignantly clear.  I had listened to my love, what she wants on our wedding day.  Ties to culture, but embracing the modern..... this dream was so vivid.
And at that moment, butterflies.  I had to sketch what I saw when I woke.
In the Chinese culture, butterflies at a wedding are special, but also spiritual in some beliefs of loved ones revisiting our plain, to offer their love and well wishes to those left behind.
Hell, it may hold some truth, or could be me losing my mind.
Either way, it was a nice dream, and spurred this poem above.
Enjoy.
Malia Jan 20
𝐈
𝐍ever
𝐅igured that
𝐀
𝐓eensy tiny
𝐔ndeveloped
𝐀ttraction would
𝐓urn
𝐈nto
𝐎vert
𝐍ausea
these butterflies make me sick
Your eyes
clear as a noon day sky
bluer than the ocean
full of stars as they settle on mine
I find myself wishing on those stars
"make this moment last forever"
and in the absence of butterflies
there is a sinking
a falling (in love)
a coming home
love
Butterflies,
With their delicate wings,
Flap laces and blessings of new dreams
And ventures,
Through the silence and murmur of voices.
They show up uninvited—
Not for the vows, not for the ceremony,
Or the reception.
They’re just free, in their own little world,
A good omen of nature’s poetry.
Playing with their cousins,
No longer tied, held hostage in anyone’s stomach,
They flutter through the words
Not bound by expectation or vow.
As small and fragile as they are,
They remember the things we do not—
All the things we act out and rehearse,
And still tend to forget,
They do naturally.
Like crashing a family wedding,
As a simple reminder:
That the best things in life land
Where they will,
No matter if it’s a dress, a car,
A hat, or a heart
dead poet Jan 6
butterflies flutter -
reach for the nectar of life;
winds change direction.
Zywa Dec 2024
A flowering shrub

at the monastery gate:


butterflies greet me.
Collection "web tissue"
🦋 Fluttering Butterflies 🦋
high and free
Flapping their
wings so Beautifully!!
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
Just Watch and see how
they float and they soar,
Gliding in the winds,
of the great outdoors!!
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋
There beauty is exquisite
as you can see
As they soar in the wind
so Gracefully!!
🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋


B.R.
Date: 9/12/2024
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