Poem

A butterfly I thought I saw -

with snow-like wings the field explore;

the smiling grass you flitted on -

your fragile beauty caught my eye -

I then gave chase – with longing sigh -

but blinked then looked – and you were gone.

 

A spider in its place I found -

poised motionless; beneath – around -

was spread your soft, alluring web,

which with a thousand charms was wrought,

where helpless like a fly I'm caught -

snared in the lair of passion's ebb.

 

The spider fled – around my head

a boisterous bee I heard instead;

with clumsy curiosity

you caused commotion then me teased -

threatened to sting me if you pleased -

with piercing kisses shower me.

 

The bee vanished - last on my hand

I felt a beetle soundless land;

in nature's duties deep absorbed -

so delicate I feared to crush

your tiny dome of colours lush -

of quaintest red with speckles daubed.

 

All these things – Emelie – are you

and more - a puzzle with no clue,

a horde of creatures in a box;

yet each is neither right nor wrong,

just notes that form your varied song,

song rich with strangest paradox.

poem by chris laverty

◄ Emelie

On Visiting North Devon In October ►

Comments

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Frances Macaulay Forde

Sun 22nd Sep 2019 18:22

A beautiful poem.

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