To: DollyCali
Butterfly
Whats in those flowers that you sip,
That makes you seem so tipsy?
We cant tell if youre coming from,
Albany or Poughkeepsie,
Or even if youre going to,
One place or the other.
The way you travel seems to be,
Youre looking for your mother!
Just as a toddler wanders round,
With no fixed course in sight,
The butterfly flits both here and yon,
In most erratic flight.
It seems so inefficient,
Why cant you just hold still?
And then you stop, and fold your wings,
Upon a daffodil.
You daintily step forward,
I havent touched a drop!
And just as sober as a Judge,
You spread your wings and FLOP!
And Flip, and Flap, and bounce.
A goonie in reverse.
How can you be so comical?
I know you dont rehearse.
And yet you get where you must go,
God knows how you can do it.
Perhaps the use of folded hands,
And faith just leads you to it.
By NicknamedBob . . . . March 30, 2004
© 2004
16 posted on
03/15/2006 4:51:47 AM PST by
NicknamedBob
(If you die in your sleep, do you wake up refreshed in the Afterlife?)
To: NicknamedBob
thank you Bob. Your contributions are always welcomed & great. If I get a few minutes later, I want to put that in table w/pix..
18 posted on
03/15/2006 4:54:10 AM PST by
DollyCali
(Don't tell GOD how big your storm is -- Tell the storm how B-I-G your God is!)
To: NicknamedBob
Good morning, NnB
I remember that butterfly poem. Thanks for re-posting it.
83 posted on
03/15/2006 8:33:41 AM PST by
JustAmy
(I wear red every Friday, but I support our Military everyday!!)
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