Ree Venrick

Butterfly Love
 
On a cold, crisp morning
she lands on a passion flower
and what do you know?
just as she lands
the sun breaks out a parade
of streaming glory
 
and before she flaps
her wispy wings
once or twice
she rushes to say
— I love you.
— You do?
— I do.
 
I have to smile and reply
— Well, I love you too .
— You do?
— I do.
even if it is a bit early
on a cold, crisp morning
as we hold our passion flowers
 
yet when the sun grows hot
and the glare too bright
I turn to seek a shady oak
 
she lifts off without a word
I start to object but
I’ve heard butterfly words before
and like some, she doesn’t even giggle
when she finds a breeze
 
but in her silence
I hear a melancholy whisper
of wispy wings and gold dust settle
on my own wings that writes the sounds
—all is true when one lights down
on passion flowers
 
 
 
Ree Venrick lives in central Florida where instead of golfing for exercise, he grows 17 kinds of citrus; and where he writes poems on the mystery of nature, honeybees, and butterflies.