Sunday, August 19, 2012

More Butterflies...

There Used To Be Butterflies in New Jersey

I remember the day the Monarchs held court on Cupsaw Beach

And filled the air with tangerine profusion

As they soared and danced with natural choreography.

There used to be butterflies in New Jersey.

They haven’t left completely,

But I see fewer every year

And miss their lilting frivolity, color and grace.

Today, I strolled a lane in South Carolina,

And was gifted with more species than I know,

The sum greater than I’ve seen in years.

Praise God, they simply filled my heart with joy

As they danced with gay abandon among the wildflowers.

They flitted against the sky with petal-soft wings

As resplendent in hew as the blooms

They landed momentarily upon, then sprang

Into fanciful Fantasia pirouettes.

Maude Carolan

This poem was written in the early 1990's.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Summertime is Butterfly Time...


There's something happy about butterflies.

They flit-flitter as they flutter by,

flying flowers against the azure sky.

They alight upon the milkweed, and then

they circle, soar and alight again,

toe-dancing on pink petals in the glen.

Ever dwelling in hue and sweet fragrance,

in garden splendor they flicker as they dance.

Pollination is purely happen-stance.

I delight in their overflow of joy.

(They wouldn't even know how to be coy.)

A flame of mirth! A whirligig! A toy!

Do they recall they once were grubby worms,

remember well their dark and squiggly squirms?

Reborn, now grace and beauty each affirms!

This almost seems to be sheer fantasy,

sky dancers as enchanting as can be,

springing from blossoms right in front of me!

So, merrily a-nectaring they go,

reaping and sowing sweetness in day-glow…

Seems they have learned what all of us should know.

In contemplation of their simple ways,

I wish to add their ballet to my days,

to sky dance gracefully on wings of praise!

Maude Carolan Pych

Sunday, August 5, 2012

One more Ocean Grove itty bitty haiku

     The Cross on Ocean Grove Beach


Ocean Grove morning

A multitude of angels

somersault to shore

Maude Carolan Pych