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Layer upon layer

of gold leaf and enamelled jewel dust

held weightless on paper wings.

Entangled in spiders’ webs,

I found their bodies folded,

vampired and hollow.

I unfolded the canvas

found their painted wings,

laid them on red velvet

inside a heart-shaped box.

 

Butterflies, soul-birds

probed into my heart,

uncoiling their threads of silvered wires

with gentle enforcement

asking me questions,

I have no answers to.

All is locked.

All is trapped.

Sleeping on red velvet

Inside a heart-shaped box.

 

The box lay unopened

within your warm hands.

You looked deep into my eyes,

held my gaze

and asked me questions

I found the answers to.

Vampired, hollowed

as I was.

 

Lifting the lid

you breathed so gently as

not to disturb

the sleeping butterflies,

fragile wings on

red velvet,

 

You said,“Oh wow.”

It was enough.


Deb R.J. May 08

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Comments

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Anthony Emmerson

Thu 26th Mar 2009 13:21

Hi Deborah,
There were several things I enjoyed about this piece - its superficial simplicity - hiding a deeper message, the use of "vampired" as a verb, and a nicely rounded ending. Good stuff.
Regards,
A.E.

<Deleted User> (5625)

Thu 26th Mar 2009 09:40

beautifully written Deborah: i'm an amateur
naturalist and i've often as a child, rescued
butterflies and bees from spiders webs!!

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winston plowes

Thu 26th Mar 2009 00:42

Hi Deborah.. This is completely different. I also put (already) dead butterflies in little packets. If they are dead then I agree completely, extract what beauty you still can from them. Thanks for the explanation. Winston

Deborah Jordan Bailey

Thu 26th Mar 2009 00:08

Hi Winston, I know, a box containing something dead seems macabre. however, I often find butterflies in one of my sheds, which have tried to escape but become trapped in cobwebs. I try to rescue them but often it is too late. I couldn't help myself and wanted to see the beauty of their wings and preserve them in a little tin. There was still so much life in the colours even though their little bodied were hollow. The silver wires are their proboscises, probosci or whatever, i imagined probing my mind instead of a flower. I love butterflies and I wanted to appreciate the beauty of their wings before they faded. Deb.

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Tim Ellis

Wed 25th Mar 2009 22:27

I like this a lot. It has atmosphere and a sense of mystery.

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winston plowes

Wed 25th Mar 2009 20:47

Had mixed feelings after reading this.. A subject (Butterflies and Moths) that absords a lot of my time. They are remarkable insects and yet for me I would not relish opening your box of dead beauty. I spend a lot of time trying to capture this beauty on film and may be having another exhibition in Hebden again soon. Don't get me wrong though Deborah, I do like the words of your poem and I guess the end could be interpreted either way... "Oh Wow" would say enough for me too. Butterflies are a difficult subject to tackle without cliches...what are these threads of silvered wires? Winston

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