Mimicry
For how long can this butterfly
Mimic a strong green leaf?
It depends on the memory of the
Caterpillar
on the other leaf wriggling
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
inching caterpillar
on a maple leaf -
a monarch butterfly
haiku by Marijo Pinero (2008)
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The Caterpillar
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A creeping, coloured caterpillar,
I gnaw the fresh green hawthorn spray,
I nibble it leaf by leaf away.
Down beneath grow dandelions,
Daisies, old-man’s-looking-glasses;
Rooks flap croaking across the lane.
I eat and swallow and eat again.
Here come raindrops helter-skelter;
I munch and nibble unregarding:
Hawthorn leaves are juicy and firm.
I’ll mind my business: I’m a good worm.
When I’m old, tired, melancholy,
I’ll build a leaf-green mausoleum
Close by, here on this lovely spray,
And die and dream the ages away.
Some say worms win resurrection,
With white wings beating flitter-flutter,
But wings or a sound sleep, why should I care?
Either way I’ll miss my share.
Under this loop of honeysuckle,
A hungry, hairy caterpillar,
I crawl on my high and swinging seat,
And eat, eat, eat—as one ought to eat.
poem by Robert Graves
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Dear women!
Autumn Leaf!
I couldn’t love you as I did when you were green.
Summer Leaf!
I don’t shunt you as I would when you turn yellow.
Tender Leaf!
Reap while being green and stop expecting later.
30.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Blue Butterfly
blue butterfly
so blue fluttering alone
hovering on my yellow green leaf
and stopping for a while
on my shiny, brown twig
tell me if i am smooth
just tell me if
if am good
then leave
blue butterfly
do not ask if my heart is real
do not ask if you can have it
i do not have a heart anymore
for you see i am just this
tree, this twig, this leaf
but blue butterfly
if ever i have a heart
please
do not ask about it
i give it to no one
i am smooth
i am too good
to be owned by
someone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Elegy On The Death Of A Church Mouse
‘Colonel Gaddafi is dead; long live Gaddafi’,
- whose words those are?
don’t shoot, don’t shoot,
enough blood is spilled!
Gaddafi,
a leaf from the tree is dead;
leaf sprouts, leaf eats, leaf sleeps in the sky,
leaf waves the world in the cheer of palm,
makes no sand out of storm,
no beating themselves by the horse drain,
no hanging noose by the cock’s strain.
Leaf feeds the tree with green
when upon it’s tender face, the horrid-sun shine,
leaf, bearer of flower, bearer of seed,
never the taster of the sap from earth
till drops dead in the paleness of red,
‘don't shoot, don't shoot,
upon the sand is blood,
for the Colonel is dead’,
said, the tree,
and said, ‘Long live Gaddafi!
poem by Saranyan Bee
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The Shortest Moment That The Butterfly Tries To Speak
how many flutters of its wings is its lifetime?
not a hundred, this butterfly with blue shaking lines on its wings
some dots of black on the lower tip
some flaps of dust as you hold it.
we love to see it freely hovering from one flower to another
blending with its colors, it is not trying to hide anything
beautiful, it is showing itself, beautiful butterfly,
how gentle, soft to our hearts as we watch it
there is no sound of its wings and its graceful feeding on the nectars
then it rests on a leaf. we leave it there.
the wind last night was strong.
we see the leaf where it stayed on the pebbled ground.
there are no wings. there is no trace where the blue butterfly is.
how many flutters did that butterfly make?
such a brief moment, yet so beautiful
that is the message of the life of its lost wings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Yesterday
yesterday was a wild wind
it blew me everywhere and i was but
a mere leaf not knowing what a direction is going to make
out of me
i hope though that soon this caterpillar
shall become another
monarch
butterfly to own a chunk of
blue sky
a capillary of a red petal of a rose that blooms
on the month of May,
yesterday was crippling and there was not crutch
no screeching wheelchair and i was helplessly bending
to a certain pain
i was wriggling and i fall upon a river raging towards a cliff
i had become a victim of a waterfall.
the hope is that soon after the wind shall have blown
and finished with its rage
the leaf shall then become free
to fall on the ground where it shall wilt
what option has it, when cut from its branch
and deprived of roots?
today is the hope of the seed
it knows what roots are, what fruits can be
today is the grains of the silent sand
light and glimmer, look over there
there is this dance of the prince and the princess
in the castle of the clouds
there is this heavy silence after
where we shall be again together
there is this smile that keeps us alive for the moment
there is this hold for a lifetime of hands that grip the softness of our being
we must agree and remember and believe
there is this tomorrow that never dies
there is this sun that we do not know how it works
tomorrow it will still be shining
there is still us i must suppose because we are tired of options.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Feel Like A Leaf In Autumn
I feel like a leaf in Autumn borne along by flooded rill
Running down the silent valley down along the moonlit hill
Down to join the flooded river towards it's final destiny
To it's deep grave in salt water in the bosom of the sea.
I felt like that leaf in Springtime on it's lovely mother tree
With it's brothers and it's sisters one big happy family
A bright green leaf in a green World dancing in the wind and rain
Give me back what's gone forever give me back my youth again.
I felt like that leaf in Summer when the sun shone in the sky
And the world was full of colour and wild songbirds piped for joy
And bright wildflowers in green meadow fit home for fair butterfly
Oh but all that's young and beautiful has one day got to die.
I feel like a leaf in Autumn borne along by flooded stream
Running down the moonlit valley that was once so very green
Down to join the flooded river towards it's final destiny
To be gone and lost forever in the bosom of the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Brown And Furry
Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry,
Take your walk
To the shady leaf, or stalk,
Or what not,
Which may be the chosen spot.
No toad spy you,
Hovering bird of prey pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
poem by Robert Frost
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Lonely Leaf
Lonely leaf
trembles
at the feeble moment
It's on the verge of falling
It's about to merge with limitless nature!
Air is guest to leaf once
now will become constant companion
Bond with tree
soon will be abandoned
The moment came
parting is always pain
fighting against time is invain
finally tree says farewell to the leaf
Now leaf realises boundless 'freedom'
It's floating like free bird
It is 'gone with the wind'
Leaf lost it's green colour
wearing pale colour
Colour hardly matters!
Leaf sings song of freedom
Bond with tree is bound
Feeling freedom is ecstasy abound
poem by Mula Veereswara Rao
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The Birth Of The Yellow Butterfly
on the gumamela leaf
the small cocoon hangs
there for days and
you wait for the
usual surprise in this
garden
it wriggles out and
pulls itself from
a tight house
it holds itself at the
tip of the leaf and
gets a fan from
the wind and then
stretches itself
and spreads its
wings and finally
flies away
how beautiful
to see
the birth of another
yellow butterfly
regally erect and
flutters from flower
to flower like she
were a princess
in her green castle
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Leaf
The Leaf.
On my walks I picked up a perfectly formed elm leaf,
the colour of dry tobacco. In Norway, during the Nazi
occupation, people had tobacco plants in back yards.
Perhaps carrots and cabbage had been healthier.
Put the leaf on top of a white wall and took a picture.
The wind came and blew it away. I brief meeting of
equals and a memory
poem by Oskar Hansen
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In Leaf Fall Learn
give leaf to leaven
busy hungry crawl caterpillar;
free to wander dawn
where it chance may
to spin silken
dream transition one glorious day;
to spin woven
dream seen inspiration as caterpillar
crawl in dust leaf learn
until time to metamorphosis turn;
dreams grounded stay
not earthbound stubborn
aspire to destiny blue cloud heaven
leap in faith learn to freedom fly;
patient be stretch birth beat wings dry
upon breath breeze sing embrace sky
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Settled in Nettles
I remember climbing nettles-
Nettles climbing our wooden fence,
The excitement of touching,
The thrill of the blisters-
The red and the oozing
Beneath my long sleeves.
I remember nettle necklaces
Burning the fingers that linked
The green leaves- big green leaf
To big green leaf- How
My neck had red blotches
Itchy and sore. I scratched
And then bled and then wore fluffy scarves.
I remember Justin Whiles
Who scrunched up his face and bit
On his lip and tied me with rope
And dragged the green nettles
Over my skin and asked, 'Why
Did we do this again? '
And now in my cabinets are nettles
In jars- jar after jar- big glass
Jars, brimming with nettles,
Their thick green leaves.
And sometimes the night
Gets quiet and cold
And I walk to my cabinets
And pull down the jars
And pull out the nettles
And bite on the leaves
And bite and then chew
And then swallow the leaves-
Leaf after leaf-
Jar after jar-
Till the night's not so silent.
Till I throw up green mulch
In my hands.
poem by Alicia Adams
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(Love) Caterpillar
My love goes to you alone,
Because I know what you can become.
I will be true to you, every minute waking.
You may just be a caterpillar to them
But to me you're a butterfly in the making.
And when you spread those wings of yours,
They'll all look at you, flabbergasted and dumb,
And know why I stuck with you,
A caterpillar that no one knew
To a butterfly where no one knows came from.
poem by K. Jared Hosein
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Who Are You?
and the worm
that looks like
a set of thorns
on a glossy leaf
asks the creature
above it with
some wings........................who are you?
and it answered him
i was once in your body
wriggling to be free
asking a lot of questions
to the air and the tree...............i am what you will soon be,
a butterfly...
and the worm does not
believe it greedy as it is
with the sap of the leaves
somehow it feels
something new it is
feeling some wings
growing, some possibilities
lurking inside it.....................................how can this be?
it is the same question
that you have been asking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Red Butterfly
Watch, see, with glee
flitting fast past a tree
Children chase, hear their cry
'Flutter by,
butterfly'
Red as sunset on the beach,
somehow always out of reach
Velvet wings whisper, wry
'Flutter by,
butterfly'
Blood heart, ruby gem
Floats in a secluded glen
So still lands, no leaf awry
'Flutter by,
butterfly'
Flame-wings on bough so green
as in close, they do lean
So still a crimson does it lie
'Flutter by,
butterfly'
Vivid red, in spring the led
Antennae tip on scarlet head
Whirl up to a diamond sky
*butterfly,
flutter, bye'
poem by Kathleen Grigsby
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Looking Back At The Greens
i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The element of determination
I will be the last leaf
To fall
From this tall tree
This fall
Was my thinking
When I chose to strike
Three months back
On a much extended
Branch of this oak tree
By the side of the road
Things started changing
Over the period
And there was
A steady dropp in temperature
Many leaves much above me
And by the side of me
Changing colours
From yellow to purple
Waiting for the ultimate fall
But I am yet to change
Maintaining my original green
Active still producing
Carbohydrates with my chlorophyl
Despite the weak solar input
I was very happy
As most of the leaves
Have fallen
Changing the colour
Of the lawn beneath
From the grassy green to
The leafy yellow
It so happened
That I was the lone green leaf
In the entire tree
Left unturned to yellow
The very next afternoon
A scientist, botanist must be,
Reached over me
Standing on a ladder
Examined me with a
Magnifying glass
Ran his fingers over me
And to my dismay
Plucked me from the branch
Though crying within
I was glad
I am the last leaf
To fall
“Dr Wilson, what could be
There special in this leaf
Which managed to stand green
And strong so long
With no signs of falling
Even at the peak of
This fall”
Said Dr Van Buren,
The botanist
A portion of mine
Was bleached
A portion of mine
Was digested in acid
My extracts
Were chromatographed,
Electro-phoresised
Atomic absorption spectrographed
Dr Wilson
Phoned up to
Dr Van Buren
“There is nothing analysed
Abnormal and special
With the contents
Of the leaf sample
Given here for anaysis.
But, I could sense
The element of determination
In this leaf
Which made it
Strick on
Despite all odds”
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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