My Butterfly

Some time ago,
while on my run
I came to the old weir.
And, as I passed
a butterfly
flew up to greet me here.

She went around in circles then
and looked me over well,
I thought perhaps she just liked men,
that's when I almost fell.

I'd kept my eyes on her too much
and didn't see the rock of ages.
And so my bare foot's painful touch
now caused the mother of all rages.

But she stayed with me for a mile,
then daintily said her goodbye.
And I enjoyed her all the while:
She was a pretty butterfly.

One hundred days I met her daily,
each morning she seemed more delicious.
She'd always look a bit capricious
but fluttered happily and gaily.

One day she didn't keep our date,
at first I didn't worry.
Quite simply she just could be late
or p'haps had met a lorry.

I never found out what occurred
and still am sadly bent.
I wonder whether you had heard
what happened to my friend.

by Herbert Nehrlich

Comments (5)

haha! ! what a write..............how sensitive and warm your heart is.....to notice these tiny creations of god.......well penned sir
actually, what bugs me the most is that, in all those 100 days I never thought to check! Figured such beauty had to be female! So Allan, if you would be so kind? You will need tweezers, magnifying glass, bright lights, patience and an understanding heart. But if it's a he, you can keep him.
Maybe you should switch to ladybugs...but you didn't hear that from me... ;) .......and she fly's away......
Thanks Allan, although I had been under the impression that she was spoken for due to our 100 days of attention and affection. But, as I have said before: ' A butterfly is a fly that flutters by'. I guess this news beats hearing about a truck windscreen or butterflies in some stomach...
Dont worry mate she's at my house, i love feel good poem's with just a touch of sadness nice poem herbert AJS