Oooooo, I’m a jammin’ to some Deep Purple cause that’s what I am feeling. I dig them, you know. Deep purple… eggplant I suppose.
Why “hush?” I am not sure it is the word that popped into my brain when I sat down to my computer. I heard in a quieted voice “hussshhhh” and immediately a poem started brewing. The color purple swarmed around in my head and by then, I had the song crawling all through my brain stem.
I thought of the butterfly that came by today while I was outside, who fluttered all about sucking up nectar from the flowers. It flew in and out, around, in between, playing flapping close and then, far from me. When butterflies do this to me, they always have a story to tell. I am known around these parts as the “Butterfly Chaser.” All the butterflies know me even in their short life span. They like to come and visit. I have only seen a few since I have arrived however, it has been too hot.
I have not seen such a prized treasure as I had today. She was so lovely indeed. She allowed me to get close enough to see the white dots on her thorax. A perfect beauty that sucked up all of my attention – grabbing me with its eloquence and revealing magnificent tales, she had seen. She sucked on purple flowers – quite possibly that is a reason for my purple mind invasion. I was quiet, and hushed as I observed her details and movements.
She tickled passed my face and arms at times. She was here most of the afternoon. It was one of those times in life that seemed to stand still for hours. A great gift from the heavens to enjoy the company of a soft spoken, elegant creature. I scooped up her stories, filed them away, and will pulling from them in the future. She had a copious amount of chronicles to flap and flitter about. Divine tales to unfold in my mind.
Here she is.
Geez! I love this song!
Mesh notes seeping,
overflowing my core.
Hypnotized covered eyes,
sealed with butterfly wings -
brushing against my lids.
Soaked into musical vapors.
Fill my bones,
Drive solace home,
my solace that swept in,
from dots of a beauteous thorax.
Liturgy of fantasies written,
in the lines of wings,
all about this daze.
spilling songs of you.
Antennas lurching harmony,
whisking in the storm clouds -
bouncing above my head.
Thunder pounding in the distance,
in sync with butterfly wings,
glued into my eyes.
Forelegs snapping to the notes,
eyes looking into mine.
Spreading a knowing melody,
the creatures all know of you and I.
Oh, I am going to put that on my poetry blog…
And this song is what I am feelin’ now! Woot!