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Swiftly she moves
around the evergreen trees.
Her colorful wings swinging
against the invigorating breeze.

Her colors are vibrant
in the light of the blue sky.
Shining so bright
in the blink of an eye.

There she goes
in her bright,glary shade.
They flutter on with the others
like a flaming butterfly parade.
They flutter and fly
as they leave each branch.
They flutter together
like a butterfly avalanche.

The tree is their home
where they destined to be,
but they do roam around
readily and free.

Together they will stay
in their butterfly family.
This place will always
be their butterfly tree.
A horse can see around corners
Look into your soul steal your heart
Butterfly kisses to die for
Make you wish people were horses
Samm Smith Nov 11
Why is it that a cold touch keeps me warm?
Or that a red dress makes me blue?
I liken dichotomies to butterflies;
The effect is sure to ensue.
Imagine being a caterpillar.
Curled up in your cocoon,
Dreaming of soaring the interstellar
And up and around the moon.

Wishing for some fresh air,
And someplace, somehow, somewhere,
to be able to finally
spread your wings
and Fly.

But in reality you’re stuck.
Stuck and curled up.
Forever eyeing and envying the eccentric butterflies
Fluttering and flourishing throughout the skies.
aneeshans Nov 1
Then it was raining
frequent and changing
shapes and layered into tranquil.  
We are closed inside
Like two butterflies
In a jar of cocoons
Above 1110 feet of arching silence,
along the long roads,
Look for the distant meadows

a warm kiss in the neck shortened
a long paragraph of longer book
into a word
The air is filled with
an old book’s smell
a long dead memory
a toys broken head
a piece of cloth that you left
an old calendar with a marked date

We will arise from this cocoon
Trespass into those woods
flew away from here.
Somewhere beyond June
Like a pilgrimage unknown
There’s daylight and ardour
she is a winged angels perched on a tulip
A Season of Woe,
A Season of Merriment
Elisabeth Oct 31
One wrong flower and you might lose yourself

That nectar can make your path wind and blur

Your beautiful pattern is an array of polka dots

Braille made to your own biography

My darling butterfly, please watch your wings  

They tear so easily my love

You are already a patch-work,

Sewn back together after tearing yourself into pieces many times over  

When will you love yourself as I do?

Caring for your wings, staying from poisonous petals

And soaring as far away from them as your wings will allow

My dear please remember your wings were made to flutter

And you to float in the sky

Do not spend all your time on flowers that only cause you to rip out your stitches
The honeybee delights in her perch
Crooning ageless songs to the tussore silk petals
A low thrum in the sweet saffron ****
A brush of honey around her entrance
She is the fae
Moth, too
Stumbling to reach the pendulous light in a drunken merriment
Dancing shadows over dry walls
A thin imitation of butterfly
Who is fae, too
Centipede and silverfish
Body full of a thousand darting eyes
Cautious, careful, carried
On the tips of toddler's fingers
Crawling, cradled
In the impregnable hands of a careless child
Wingbeats like a dreary applause
In the dew-soaked trellis
The labyrinth of gossamer thread
Arachne is prideful.
Escape, escape,
There is a minute sound of a spider weeping
Dry, Like sand through an hourglass
As she wraps the children in viscid cloth
Drier still are the ghosts crackling as tiny feet
Navigate the cicada grave
Skin grows tighter and tighter
Summer is over now
Just a thought about bugs
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