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Poetry: When the Butterfly Refused

Updated on December 26, 2010

When the Butterfly Refused

By Joni Scanlon

She is unlike a butterfly knowing of place,
Fluttering elegantly from brightly lit flower,
Until all energy gone, spent of all power
She swoons into much venerated demise.

She does not flutter gracefully.
She spins in fiercely defiant circles.
She has not learned yet to yield.

Stumbling first onto tree then fence post,
landing awkwardly on butterfly bush,
she re-alights, moves on, moves on,
never knowing the feel of soft landings,
the perch where she truly belongs.

Is she a butterfly - purple, yellow, and green?
Or a blue-black fly who mistook her role,
missing where it was once spelled neat
beside her reflection in a quiet pool?

Why outside peering in does she fly,
taunted by that old bother, passion?
Is it that with no learning in her eye *
she feels purpose where none exists?

Is she to be treasured by those so rare
they’d hold her in the prison of their hands
and seeking knowledge, find purpose there?

* Note: Inspired by William Butler Yeats'

Another Song of a Fool

This great purple butterfly,
In the prison of my hands,
Has a learning in his eye
Not a poor fool understands

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    • jonihnj profile image
      Author

      jonihnj 6 years ago from Metro New York

      Thanks so much for your kind words Kim. They mean more than you can imagine.

    • profile image

      Kim 6 years ago

      You write some of the most touching things I have ever read. Thank you so much for sharing your ideas with all of us.

    • jonihnj profile image
      Author

      jonihnj 6 years ago from Metro New York

      Thanks so much tnderhrt23 for your comments. I write a lot of poetry but have felt reluctant to share until now. Your words are encouraging!

    • tnderhrt23 profile image

      tnderhrt23 6 years ago

      I love this! You paint a very vivid picture with words! My favorite verse - "Why outside peering in does she fly,

      taunted by that old bother, passion?

      Is it that with no learning in her eye *

      she feels purpose where none exists?" Perhaps I identify with this butterfly...lovely!