Song Of The Butterfly
'butterfly
butterfly
why do you fly? '
I’ve got wings
I’ve got aerodynamics
so I flit about
and I fly:
for I just got to be
'O I wish
I really wish
I too could fly
flit and fly
fly and flit
just like you
I wish I could fly'
O you can
O you can
flit about and fly
you mortal on the ground
you can fly
if you use your mind
if you try
if you try
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Butterfly Split
Says Mr Butterfly
To Mrs Butterfly:
'I want a divorce;
let's split'
And says Mrs Butterfly:
'OK. You flit your way
and I flutter my way
You take
the North Bank in the garden
and I’ll have the South-East'
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Surroundings-12
Pesticide
Sick plants
Disheartening
Flit, flit..acrid odour
Dead sprayed..more disheartened.Just said
Sorry
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterfly Poems
1 wing pages of the butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
2 song of the butterfly
'butterfly
butterfly
w hy do you fly? '
I’ve got wings
I’ve got aerodynamics
so I flit about
and I fly:
for I just got to be
'O I wish
I really wish
I too could fly
flit and fly
fly and flit
just like you
I wish I could fly'
O you can
O you can
flit about and fly
you mortal on the ground
you can fly
if you use your mind
if you try
if you try
3 the boy and the butterfly
'O butterfly
where do you go
so busy, so fast
moving about in a hurry? '
O I move up and down
and across and sideways
I have to go and go and go
little boy
just like you jump and run
just like you roll and play
just as active as you are
just being in the joy of me
4 the girl and the butterflies
'O butterflies
of all colors
butterflies of purple, green
and maroon and gold
O I love your colors!
I love each glow! '
And we so love
the colors of your dresses too
little girl;
we love the colors in each dress
you wear every time
you come to see us in the fields
and O we do
we so love the glow in your cheeks
5 butterfly time
you live a week
at most a year
dear butterfly...
a week
a year;
and so we too,
though we may count in a hundred,
are subject to quick passing…
6 butterfly: a lesson in history
O butterfly
tell me true
how did you get
your name?
Is it true as some say?
from your poo?
I’ll tell you how
we got the name 'butterfly'...
well, in the days of old
when no one knew
what to call us
for we were all nameless then
there was a poet
who instead of making money
just like you
deliberated on questions
of what shall I call this thingy that
flies about?
and as he sat at his table
wondering of names
his indignant wife would throw things at him
to get him to work and earn some bread
instead of depending on her father’s estate;
and she would let things fly at him
things like a spoon, knife, wood,
clothes – and one day she threw the butter at him
and it was then that the penniless poet had inspiration
and he shouted: 'Butterfly! '
and that’s how we were christened
because the witless poet saw some
similarity between butter and fly
and so we have ever to fly about
with this heavy weight of the butter
on our delicate wings
7 the butterfly hunter
O hunter
butterfly collector
let us be
We got a life
we love to fly
and we got family
O don’t catch us
don’t bottle us
don’t gas us
let us be
we love to fly
and we love to bring joy
to poets in gardens;
we love to bring laughter
to children in the fields
O please, Collector
do not bring death to us
O hunter
butterfly collector
let us be
We got a life
we love to fly
and we got family
(above poem based on painting: Der Schmetterlingsjäger (The butterfly hunter) by Carl Spitzweg (1840) , a depiction from the era of butterfly collection)
8 names of the butterfly
the butterfly has a
thousand names
as many as there are languages
and in each even more names:
papillon, paruparo, borboleta, mariposa,
schmetterling, farfalla, fluture, drugelis, sommerfug,
pattampoochi, farasha, prajapathi,
thithili, chocho, hu-tieh
and so on, names a thousand and more
but the silliest name
illogical, unimaginative, and most clichéd
in all the world
is in Plain Jane English:
butterfly…
9 a picnic, some butter, and a fly
I sat down for a picnic
and wondered
what I could spread on my bread
and soon an idea came by;
and so with my left hand
I shooed away the fly
and with my right
spread evenly the butter
10 nature of the butterfly
people say the butterfly is beautiful
but if its jerky flight and nervous twitches
were made into music
it’d sound more a cacophony than a symphony
11 a queensland butterfly
butterfly is in an inapt name
for those in the state of Queensland
for the they’d melt in the very heat in summer
and so, really, since the butterfly’s wings open up like a book
I’d rather call it pagefly
or an e-readerfly
or flutterby or bye-bye or even by-the-by
12 the erotic butterfly
just three butterflies
cover my love
better than silk or sari
13 butterfly and wisteria
Ah, butterfly
you are in your own:
you flutter gently
and you see the wisteria;
and you are in natural rhythm
and you will eat, now that the time
and place are right
14 be you makers of beauty
'maybe a few words, '
I ask of the butterfly
that is resting on radiant leaves
and the butterfly says:
'Be you makers of beauty…'
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Butterfly
If I could be a butterfly
and flit from place to place
I'd travel to the past
and come to rest upon your face.
The beauty and the warmth of you
would make my wings content
to linger there and know
that's the place where I was sent.
And as I left I'd take with me
the sweetness that I felt
and put it on the flowers
where I landed and then knelt
to pray a song of love for you
and all the butterflies
that they could find a place to land
like me, where love resides.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Kidnaped
I HELD my heart so far from harm,
I let it wander far and free
In mead and mart, without alarm,
Assured it must come back to me.
And all went well till on a day,
Learned Dr. Cupid wandered by
A search along our sylvan way
For some peculiar butterfly.
A flash of wings, a hurried drive,
A flutter and a short-lived flit;
This Scientist, as I am alive
Had seen my heart and captured it.
Right tightly now 'tis held among
The specimens that he has trapped,
And sings (Oh, love is ever young),
'Tis passing sweet to be kidnaped.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bugs (On a Summer's Day)
On any hot and sunny, summer's day,
Millions of bugs appear, to work and play.
Butterflies flit to and fro: they flit high and flit low;
Bringing a touch of beauty, wherever they may go.
Crimson red, with little black spots, is the ladybird.
My whole face lights up, whenever it's name is heard.
The honey bees, are industrious in their work:
Their responsibilities, they never ever shirk.
Then there's the ant, aka the earth excavation engineer;
One, I can stand, but a whole army feels me with fear.
I freeze with fear, when by a wilful wasp, I'm pursued.
They hang around, even when I don't have any food.
Likewise, different species of fly, varying in shape and size,
Look for food - to keep it covered, you'd be extremely wise.
Hoverflies, however, do pretty much as their name suggests,
But, unlike wasps, who look quite similar, they are not pests.
Storm flies may well be extremely tiny and titch,
But when they crawl on you, they don't half itch!
Outdoors, I dash away, if the sound of buzzing gets too close;
'Ha! I chased her away! ' the insects, to each other, I bet, boast!
Tiny bugs, which crawl about in my hair,
Is one thing which, I really can not bear.
Woodlice, however, do not like the scorching sun,
And, if disturbed, to a new shelter, they'll quickly run.
Lacewings look pretty, with wings, all delicate and lacy,
But emitting a nasty smell to predators, they aren't tasty.
In the evening, Grasshoppers and crickets chirp away,
Signalling the closing in of yet another summer's day.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sandpiper
Across the lonely beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I,
And fast I gather, but by bit,
The scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I.
Above our heads the sullen clouds
Scud, black and swift, across the sky:
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
Stand out the white light-houses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach
I see the close-reefed vessels fly,
As fast we flit along the beach,
One little sandpiper and I.
I watch him as he skims along,
Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;
He starts not at my fitful song,
Nor flash of fluttering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong,
He scans me with a fearless eye;
Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong,
The little sandpiper and I.
Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night,
When the loosed storm breaks furiously?
My drift-wood fire will burn so bright!
To what warm shelter canst thou fly?
I do not fear for thee, though wroth
The tempest rushes through the sky;
For are we not God's children both,
Thou, little sandpiper, and I?
poem by Celia Thaxter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Evening Dress in the Afternoon
I don't know your name
couldn't find you photo, even on Google
but I know that you must be
a high-society sophisticate
in the butterfly world
svelte body sheathed
in basic black
wings black too, at the start
then bands of palest blue
give way to transparent tips.
You wear this
enchanting evening dress
with the detached cool
that comes with class
even though the sun is shining
this hot August August afternoon
sit unmoving
on a lily stem
while tiny white ingenues
flit about below
to curry favor.
Our Secret Sonar Romances
bats are back
their fruit trees in fruit
night feast flight
flit flit flutter flight
fruit passion consumed
in tree dance flight
season past season
come dance our night
under shades of moon
I click my fingers
a few bats flit flight
fly up circle come
fly past my face
a few feet away
flit flight greetings
they like the audience
sonar image my face
thought whisper greet
ink veil night magic
moon crescent night magic
arch phases paint magic
dark building backdrops
stand tall solid frame trees
in background night prayers
silhouette shadow salutes
sky heaven altar glorious
heart stirs in night shades
friend bats flutter flight
disappearing back into trees
feast feed ripe flower fruits
friend bats I know
your ways of disappearing
friend bats I know
your night vision trails
your night vision paths
your night cycle dances
flowers fade into rebirth
organic petal forget me nots
out of sight out of mind
love is bat night flight born
bats my rest break companions
we share night flight visions
this realm of darkness
our mind flight mansions
our secret sonar romances
Dedicated to Miroslava Odalovic who shared a few of my nights with conversation between ritual night writing songs of creativity.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterfly...
Butterfly...my all..my own, Butterfly
My butterfly, I remember the
day we met. You bumped into me.
Well, sort of floated, from no where,
and from that moment, I recall what
I said, 'Well, my little butterfly,
where did you come from.?
Butterfly, you laughed, and responded,
'I picked you out, and just floated down,
and landed on your shoulder.
Butterfly, there are many that think
that a Butterfly, can't laugh, but you did.
They think that a Butterfly, does not cry,
but you have.
Can a Butterfly be happy, cause happiness?
Butterfly, of mine...you did.
Can a Butterfly, caused one to nearly burst
with joy? Butterfly, you did and you have.
Butterfly, there is not a moment, since I
met you, that I can not recall.
Some might wonder what a butterfly, drinks.
Butterfly, shall we let them know, we became
intoxicated, as we sipped the nectar of life.
As my butterfly and I floated through the
wonders of earth, I wish we could share the
joy we found, with all of this planet.
Butterfly, shall we always be together?
Butterfly, I do not mean, just here on
earth, I mean until the stars stop shinning.
Butterfly, I mean, until there is no moon...
no anything, but my Butterfly and I.
Butterfly...I think that we will. Butterfly,
I believe that we were meant to be.
Torn Butterfly
Torn butterfly torn butterfly
Seeing you there it makes me cry
Torn butterfly your wings they tore
From the weight that they bore
Torn butterfly it's plain to see
That you are just the same as me
Torn butterfly the world is tough
Hard as stones and just as rough
Torn butterfly I know your pain
And I don't want to know it again
Torn butterfly come join me now
And we'll regain our wings somehow
Torn butterfly it's sad but true
In death our wings become brand new
Torn butterfly just fade away
And we will fly this very day
Torn butterfly this note I send
And hope that you will cause your end
So we can fly in clear blue skies
Where no one hurts and no one cries
Torn butterfly with my last breath
I ask you to come join me in death
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Wing and Wind...
My butterfly, I remember the
day we met. You bumped into me.
Well, sort of floated, from no where,
and from that moment, I recall what
I said, 'Well, my little butterfly,
where did you come from.?
Butterfly, you laughed, and responded,
'I picked you out, and just floated down,
and landed on your shoulder.
Butterfly, there are many that think
that a Butterfly, can't laugh, but you did.
They think that a Butterfly, does not cry,
but you have.
Can a Butterfly be happy, cause happiness?
Butterfly, of mine...you did.
Can a Butterfly, caused one to nearly burst
with joy? Butterfly, you did and you have.
Butterfly, there is not a moment, since I
met you, that I can not recall.
Some might wonder what a butterfly, drinks.
Butterfly, shall we let them know, we became
intoxicated, as we sipped the nectar of life.
As my butterfly and I floated through the
wonders of earth, I wish we could share the
joy we found, with all of this planet.
Butterfly, shall we always be together?
Butterfly, I do not mean, just here on
earth, I mean until the stars stop shinning.
Butterfly, I mean, until there is no moon...
no anything, but my Butterfly and I.
Butterfly...I think that we will. Butterfly,
I believe that we were meant to be.
Butterfly, Butterfly
butterfly, butterfly
fly in the sky
butterfly, butterfly
flies so high
butterfly, butterfly
lands on my thigh
butterfly, butterfly
motionlessly lies
butterfly, butterfly
gracefully dies
poem by Adryan Bates
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Daft Days
The midnight hour is clinking, lads,
An' the douce an' the decent are winking, lads;
Sae I tell ye again,
Be't weel or ill ta'en,
It's time ye were quatting your drinking, lads.
Gae ben, 'an mind your gauntry, Kate,
Gi'es mair o' your beer, an' less bantry, Kate,
For we vow, whaur we sit,
That afore we shall flit,
We'se be better acquaint wi' your pantry, Kate.
The "daft days" are but beginning, Kate,
An we're sworn. Would you hae us a sinning, Kate?
By our faith an' our houp,
We will stick by the stoup
As lang as the barrel keeps rinning, Kate.
Thro' hay, an' thro' hairst, sair we toil it, Kate,
Thro' Simmer, an' Winter, we moil it, Kate;
Sae ye ken, whan the wheel
Is beginning to squeal,
It's time for to grease an' to oil it, Kate.
Sae draw us anither drappy, Kate,
An' gie us a cake to our cappy, Kate;
For, by spiggot an' pin!
It's waur than a sin
To flit when we're sitting sae happy, Kate.
poem by Hew Ainslie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She's A Butterfly
She remembers when she first got her wings
And how she opened up that day
she learned to sing
Then the colors came, erased the
black and white
And her whole world changed
when she realized
[Chorus:]
She's a butterfly, pretty as the crimson sky
Nothing's ever gonna bring her down
And everywhere she goes
Everybody knows she's so glad to be alive
She's a butterfly
Like the purest light in a darkened world
So much hope inside such a lovely girl
You should see her fly, it's almost magical
It makes you wanna cry, she's so beautiful
[Chorus]
God bless the butterfly,
give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
God bless the butterfly,
give her strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
[Chorus]
God bless the butterfly,
give her the strength to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
God bless the butterfly,
give her the strenght to fly
Never let her wings touch the ground
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Unsinging Sparrows in Aussie Cold
My grandchild bawled at
the sparrows on the tall tree.
They chirped and flit off.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ode to a Butterfly
Butterfly, oh butterfly, why do you hide in the shadows?
Spread wide your wings, let your heart sing
And come dance with me in the meadow
Butterfly, oh butterfly, why do you fear?
You'll never stray, I'll lead the way
Just follow the path, I'll be near
Butterfly, oh butterfly, have you no hope?
Drink of the sun, our life's just begun
Thro time's hills and valleys we'll lope
Butterfly, oh butterfly, dare you to dream?
On our hearts we depend, shall we follow the wind
And consign to the fates grander scheme?
poem by Sheri Hockman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!