Butterfly
Fly, O butterfly fly in the clear and sunny day
Fly about in freedom in your haphazard way.
Fly onto colourful flowers and plants giving sustenance away
Fly as only you know how and live to see and fly another day.
Such a creature that you are and so very delicately made
A marvel of creation clothed in colours which do persuade.
What a contrast there is while you're motionless to that when you're in flight
A splendid example of nature to which all the credit is due allowing this sight.
Although you have your own season and have much with which to display
You're only here for a short time and like to make the most of it each day.
With angelic-like wings of splendour it seems you fly around effortlessly
From one area to another wherever your discretionary whim takes thee.
You are a creature of metamorphosis or the product and result of transforming change
Could this be the reason why that beauteous form of yours covers such a broad range?
For in the life-span which has been allotted to you a rare beauty you've now become
An exemplar of harmonious existence with nature that is evidently a hobby for some.
In the whole wide world there's hardly a creature that bears any resemblance to you
And it's only in your rather less noble relation the moth there's some semblance true.
You're verily also a creature that appears to revel in broad daylight
Though your cousin is mainly one who usually abounds in the night.
And you have wings that are mostly poised upright behind you when in rest
While those of your kindred are but lowly hung and only widespread at best.
It also occurs to me you're more refined and sensitive by birthright than your relation
As you're the one who avoids flying headlong into objects and get the most adulation.
Fly O butterfly fly and may you find your happy mate
Fly to where love takes you and wandering does sate.
Fly all around to every place in your naturally free and delightful state
Fly as only you know how and live to share with all that eventful fate.
poem by George Krokos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Gaia’s Plan
Please, don’t sweep the leaves away –
Their essence gives to life’s decay.
Never hack the flowers down –
Their colours bless the laughing clown.
Now why the mowing of the lawn?
The severed grass will lie forlorn.
Let our flora live undressed,
Or under Man, will toil repressed!
I, the tree of standing still –
Erect and proud, and stout of will,
Aglow with motley bark of earth –
Advance my roots for all they’re worth,
Internalising Nature’s bowels
To snag the devil, tweak his jowls
And pull his hairs from whence they grow!
I’ll destroy his pagan show
Of Homo sapiens’ disrespect!
The humble ape must reconnect
With Gaia’s plan!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
nature nature nature nature nature nature's creature
nature nature nature nature nature nature's creature
nature nature nature nature nature nature's creature
nature nature nature nature nature nature's creature
nature nature nature nature nature nature's creature
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Origins
The plaster continues to crumble
It's because of the light!
That blasted light!
I see the floors are sinking in
In the derelict of light.
I am a creature of comfort
Because of the light!
Oh, that blasted light!
Lavish me in the finest of things
Without the curse of the light.
The horror within is now revealed
Why, because of the light.
Oh, that blasted light!
And with the darkness, my beauty is healed.
Because of the light, oh the light.
Do you find I have cause to lie?
Yes, I do.
It's because of the light!
For all that my soul is suffering
And I am a creature of night.
I am a creature of comfort
I am a creature of fright
I'm a creature of sensual pleasure
I'm a creature with just one little bite.
I am a creature of legend
I am a creature of night
I'm a creature that stalks in the shadows
I'm a creature that hides from the light.
I am a creature unwanted
I am a creature with might
I'm a creature seduced by the hunger
I'm a creature of mischief and rife.
I am a creature so sadly
I am a creature, that's right
I'm a creature without soul
As low as it goes
I'm the creature to end your life
poem by Maura Herboldsheimer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Origins
The plaster continues to crumble
It's because of the light!
That blasted light!
I see the floors are sinking in
In the derelict of light.
I am a creature of comfort
Because of the light!
Oh, that blasted light!
Lavish me in the finest of things
Without the curse of the light.
The horror within is now revealed
Why, because of the light.
Oh, that blasted light!
And with the darkness, my beauty is healed.
Because of the light, oh the light.
Do you find I have cause to lie?
Yes, I do.
It's because of the light!
For all that my soul is suffering
And I am a creature of night.
I am a creature of comfort
I am a creature of fright
I'm a creature of sensual pleasure
I'm a creature with just one little bite.
I am a creature of legend
I am a creature of night
I'm a creature that stalks in the shadows
I'm a creature that hides from the light.
I am a creature unwanted
I am a creature with might
I'm a creature seduced by the hunger
I'm a creature of mischief and rife.
I am a creature so sadly
I am a creature, that's right
I'm a creature without soul
As low as it goes
I'm the creature to end your life
poem by Katherine Clark
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A silente creature
The silent creature
populates the human
minds
A silent creature
is invisible but
reliable and fizzy
This creature is
silent because she
needs to be
understood, refined and
she wants a
lot of aids
A silent creature
is an explosion
of life
To be a
silent creature is
a fresh and
wonderful sensation
A silent creature
is an angelical
messenger
She is a
happy, ancient, colorful
and vital imagine
A silent creature
tells many different
and interesting stories
Sometimes the silent
creature deceives to
defeat the racism
A silent creature
is defenseless from
the not curious
A silent creature
is a desirable
but desperate and
suspicious person
A silent creature
can be an
alter ego
She is a
guide of dignity
and human values
poem by Laura arwen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
PSYCHE: Butterfly and Soul;
Laid on the underside of a leaf,
Early stage is egg;
Thriving to exist;
Hatching from the eggshell,
Consuming leaves as caterpillar,
Creepy, hungry larva is the second stage;
Accumulating needs with greed;
Hiding itself in a cover of time is pupa
Still and suspended is the third stage;
Buried in a tomb;
Emerging as a beautiful winged-fly Imago,
Butterfly is the fourth and final stage;
As soul gets liberated from all bonds;
Basking in the Sun, it sets to fly
Ready to feed on sweet nectar of flowers
Meanwhile pollinating them;
It can live from a week to a year
It plays an important role in nature
Finding its mate and the cycle repeats;
Fairy for the plants, Angel of joy to us
Colourful, joyful, beautiful flying creature
A tiny insect whose fluttering wings has impact,
On the occurence of tornado;
A butterfly represents the true spirit of life,
Rightly called Pysche for the final attainment,
Psyche, the love of Eros achieved immortality,
A butterfly portrays the journey of soul;
Reaching for the sky, feeding on nectar;
Is what mortals want as soul in Heaven.
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
White Butterflies
Their beauty sad to say will not last long a few days to live that is all
The white butterflies in the garden on this warm day in the Fall
So little time in their bloom of beauty to mate and lay their eggs and to fly
Around the wildflowers and the flowering bushes when the sun shines bright in the sky
Of death they would not have a sense of but a few days in time to them must seem long
Their is so much to learn of Nature though Nature keeps proving us wrong
So innocent in their great beauty they are as natural as bird song
And so soon to return to Nature for to Nature they surely belong,
In the sky they seem to be dancing perhaps in a courtship display
Of butterfly life i am ignorant and my assumptions a guess anyway
As butterflies their's is a brief existence their life span is forty eight hours
They will be outlived by most insects and they will be outlived by the flowers
In a few days they will be with Nature as Nature takes back
what she does create
In the sunshine they flit through the garden seemingly quite unaware of their fate.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nightwing
Nightwing has stirred, and taken to flight
The silence is over, hes shattered the night
No other hunter has the power or the grace
He is the master of this place
Tell every creature of the night
The kill is around the bend
So listen my friend
Nightwing flies again
They say he comes for those whose souls are weak
And call his name upon the wind
The night is cold and thick with mystery
Oh I can feel his beating wings
Tell every creature of the night
The kill is around the bend
Nightwing flies again
Tell every creature of the night
The kill is around the bend
Nightwing flies again
Nightwing has stirred, and taken to flight
The silence is over, hes shattered the night
Life aint for giving and forgiving aint free
No soul will rest while the hunted run free
So tell every creature of the night
The kill is around the bend
Listen my friend
Nightwing flies again
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
And What Is Man
And what is man but animal a descendant of ape
A creature of this Planet earth with monkey build and shape
And what is man but mortal with brief so brief life span?
Like flowers of Spring he live short while the earth born creature man.
And then so why should man the animal with superior powers of mind
Look down on his fellow man on his own fellow kind
And why should man the mortal chose to discriminate
And surrender to jealousy a fore-runner to hate? .
And why should man the animal with ape like hands and feet
Allow himself fall victim of greed and self conceit?
As man is air breathing creature and air breathing creature's life is brief
He quickly grow and then he fade like frostbit autumn leaf.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Chrysalis
My little Mädchen found one day
A curious something in her play,
That was not fruit, nor flower, nor seed;
It was not anything that grew,
Or crept, or climbed, or swam, or flew;
Had neither legs nor wings, indeed;
And yet she was not sure, she said,
Whether it was alive or dead.
She brought it in her tiny hand
To see if I would understand,
And wondered when I made reply,
"You've found a baby butterfly."
"A butterfly is not like this,"
With doubtful look she answered me.
So then I told her what would be
Some day within the chrysalis:
How, slowly, in the dull brown thing
Now still as death, a spotted wing,
And then another, would unfold,
Till from the empty shell would fly
A pretty creature, by and by,
All radiant in blue and gold.
"And will it, truly?" questioned she--
Her laughing lips and eager eyes
All in a sparkle of surprise--
"And shall your little Mädchen see?"
"She shall!" I said. How could I tell
That ere the worm within its shell
Its gauzy, splendid wings had spread,
My little Mädchen would be dead?
To-day the butterfly has flown,--
She was not here to see it fly,--
And sorrowing I wonder why
The empty shell is mine alone.
Perhaps the secret lies in this:
I too had found a chrysalis,
And Death that robbed me of delight
Was but the radiant creature's flight!
poem by Mary Emily Bradley
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
Another Raven Story (A Fable)
It dost speak and live free.
Tamed by men and virtuous scores
The raven's been scarred and bleeding.
'Nevermore should wounds be healed.
Nevermore must I fly.
Death comes as I glide away,
I'd rather bleed here and die!
To seek freedom is to seek death
As lifespans linger on.
So dost my time clock ticks
Wearing my breath down for long.'
He took his plight and roam the earth
Not wanting to flap his feathered wings.
Mingling with rodents and crawling insects
As birds of his kind flew free.
His wounds have healed in time
But he dost stay there, still.
'I'll live here alone and happy
With a world far beyond my mind.
I, a raven, a bird no more;
A creature of earthly soil.
I declare myself splendid
Above the birds I know.
No bird nor life should call me 'Raven'
For bird am I no more.'
He met some friends,
Some creatures from the ground.
'Why art ye this way? ' They asked.
So he told his story to all.
'But thou art a bird.' Said the other.
'And thou shalt not deny it.' Said one.
'Fortunate ye are with wings
Able to explore horizons.
Unlike us who cannot fly
When fires scorch the seasons.'
After that all departed
Thinking how strange the raven's been.
Feeling unwanted, he left.
Still walking, and not with wings.
Night falls, he finds no shelter.
No caves nor holes to spend the night.
His pride's too big for him to go back
To trees he lived, and once called home.
'Further steps would lead new places.
By far, strive hard and well be patient.
My outstretched legs must be kept working
For me to be strong and survive.'
Says he, the raven, denying flight;
Too proud enough to swallow his pride.
Dawn's arriving though it's still dark.
The raven saw this creature and spoke out loud:
'Ye rat, why dost ye have wings? '
Says he, 'Me not a rat, you see;
A mammal of flight am I, a bat! '
Swung free open his wings and flew,
Glides pass the dark, out of moonlight's sight.
'Is he happy? ' Asked the raven to himself.
Sunrise approaching, but still he hasn't rested.
'Guess I have to use these wings.' Quoth he.
'I have no life wandering. The sky's my life.
How treacherous its pangs may be.'
Multicolored Butterfly
There was a multicolored butterfly flying in the air
A multicolored butterfly- who did not have a care.
Going from flower to flower for all the world to see
The beauties of nature made for you and me.
People stopping and talking and gazing upon its wings
This is one of the wonders GOD gave us.
And such a beautiful thing.
This multicolored butterfly flew around my head
I knew if I grabbed it- then soon it would be dead.
They have a life expectancy of seventy two hours you see
And that is the reason it has to be free.
They have a place called butterfly world
In a town called coconut creek
I knew I had to go there
I had to take a peek.
They had butterflies from all over the world
And a quick class to show, all the boys and girls.
There is so much about butterflies that I didn’t know
They can see colors of red, yellow, and green
But nothing in between.
They sip nectars from flowers through their tongues
And smell through their antennae, and taste with
Their feet, and breathe through the sides of their bodies
That in itself is a learning treat.
So to this butterfly that’s flying around my head
I salute and praise your beauty till the moment
That you’re dead.
I will mourn for you for the short time that you lived.
Because in that time, you had so much to give.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterfly
butterfly
I stopped to look at a butterfly-then it flew away.
Yet! -left me with an impression.
With me it will always stay.
Its wings were a beautiful brown-with polka dots you see.
I had wanted to grab it-but I knew it had to be free.
They only have a short life span
But in their life -they live an eternity.
They have no worries or cares-but in their life they share
All the joys of yesteryear…
If man could be as a butterfly-and enjoy and share life.
we would not have to go through, all our struggles and strife.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Monarchs, Hated.
Monarch...
Butterfly or king.
Dicktator, or Nature's beauty.
The first, usually being ugly,
The second, a creature of beauty.
The first, a dikhead...
That, all wish dead.
A butterfly, floating over head...
It's beautied, fulfilling duty.
Monarchs-twice...
Of men and mice.
poem by Michael Gale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Guava
Behold the beauty of guava tree!
In nature’s garden she is free.
She is the gift of nature;
Born for the worldly creature.
She bears green, yellow, red delicious fruits;
Human beings, parrots, pigeons and bats are her guests.
Fruits are delicate and lovely,
Attract the travellers and birds gaily.
She spreads the brown boughs to the sky,
Above her beautiful black crows fly.
She is the perennial gift of nature,
She contents the hunger of the creature.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Creature Crawling
The creature crawling don't know when he'll arrive
Don't know if creature is dead or alive
All of god's creatures have the will to survive
Did you know about that ?
Did you know about all that ?
The creature crawling
The creature crawling
The creature crawling and he's coming up the road
He's crawling over to your area code
Crawling through the grass of your little abode
Did you know about that ?
Did you know about that ?
Did you know about all that ?
Whatcha gonna say ?
Whatcha gonna do ?
What goes around it comes around
One fine day
Look around
There will be nothing but you
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
To be sure, the response of faith to revelation, which God grants to the creature he chooses and moves with his love, occurs in such a way that it is truly the creature that provides the response, with its own nature and its natural powers of love.
quote by Hans Urs von Balthasar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Nature At Dusk
Butterfly, butterfly, up so high
Your radiant colors as you glide
As the mockingbird sings so sweet and soft
Flowers of beauty and rich scents fill the air with tranquility and serenity
Bumblebees slowly and delicately hum their lullaby to all the creatures
The stars and the fireflies are nightlights to the creatures' babes
The wolf howls gently and sincerely to call the moon out of the clouds
Woodpecker beating his drum to tell the night it is time to overpower the day sky
At last, it is dusk
There is no movement or sound
The singing, the humming, the howling, the drums, and the wind too, all are silent and idle
Every creature is asleep and peacefully quiet
This is nature at dusk
poem by Caroline Bulleck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love and the butterfly
Love is like a butterfly
never here nor there
high or low
not really watching where to go.
A first love is like a butterfly
hatching out of a cocoon
we are amazed by the beauty
of this new feeling.
True love is like a butterfly
spreading its wings
and starting towards the sky
knowing that they want to have this forever.
Loosing love is like a butterfly
laying its eggs then flying away to die
leaving them in this big world all alone
knowing nothing familiar only home.
Wanting for love is like a butterfly
still as a caterpillar
wanting those wings
to be just like his friends.
Love is like a butterfly
Trying to spread its wing and fly
Love is like a butterfly
It can stay or it can die.
please rate or leave comments i do appretiate
poem by lizzy Sydney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As Thee Will'eth
For the love of thy night creature,
Call’eth, with thy heart, dark romance’s very teacher.
As thee will’eth on thy heavenly plain,
So shall it be in thy hellish refrain.
To bask’eth in divine love
While’st thy bodies fall from above.
For this mortal sin
Will eat ourselves both from within.
Angelic presence should not be tainted
By thy demonic love, so un-sainted.
Pure Spirit of thee hold’st true
To thy darkened fleshly hue.
Still thee summons thy shade
And thyself appears as inferno’s flames fade.
True love, in eye-lock’eth gaze, commence
As we art to be’eth together forever since.
To create love equal to none,
Thee has spurned the very One
In creation of thine passion
That be’eth from no lofted fashion.
For the love of thy night creature,
Call’eth, with thy heart, dark romance’s very teacher.
As thee will’eth on thy heavenly plain,
So shall it be in thy hellish refrain.
poem by Robert L. Bixler III
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Creature Is This
What creature is this,
That decides to begin explicit conflicts?
Doing things the opposite...
And spreading contagious disease.
That feeds on hypocrisy,
With such amazing ease!
What creature is this,
Existing in our midst?
Allow to persist with displays of sickness!
Poisonous is the water...
And the air this 'thing' pollutes!
Unsatisfied with its reflection seen...
It destroys anything Mother Nature 'salutes'.
What creature is this,
That can not sit to fit in?
Why is it like a cancer spreading,
With no cure to stop its end!
What creature is this,
With a mind that defines?
And looking for a way,
To slay all goodness that it finds!
What creature is this...
Insisting to plant chaos remembered,
And not to be left behind!
What creature IS this?
Making attempts...
To discourage wishes of peace,
It declines!
What beast is this watched...
As it craves with venom seeking to unwind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!