BUTTERFLY MOTHER
Dancing the tune of the breeze
She lifts her coat sleeves –
And freezes as if in prayer
To breed in the shady leaves;
Green confetti in air.
On the rib-case underneath –
A waxy seam of leaf,
Tiny eggs, colour of cream
Are stuck with butterfly paste.
Blue lady lifts as a dream,
Leaving them, to hatch or waste.
Who knows where she goes
Blue butterfly mother?
© Dianne Bates
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Another beautiful poem, Di!
Fabulous! Thanks Dianne and the blue butterfly photo is gorgeous – sets it off perfectly 🙂
Lovely Di.
Beautiful Butterfly! Robyn
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