Tag Archives: #Butterfly

‘The Butterfly and the Bee’

“You really are quite funny looking.”

said the Butterfly to the Bee,

“With your silly round body,

your stubby little wings,

and your penchant for honey.”

“Me?” said the Bee,

“Why not take a look at yourself, Mr Butterfly –

take it from me

I never did see

an uglier looking guy

flying by.

©️graemesandford.com

‘I didn’t want to die’

I didn’t want to die

Before I

had seen a blue butterfly –

when all of a sudden

an eight-foot tall

blue butterfly came along

and ate me up,

toes and all.

When the Bad Bee bothered the Beautiful Butterfly.

‘When the Bad Bee bothered the Beautiful Butterfly.’

There were buzzy bees, beautiful butterflies, stingy wasps – sorry sting-y wasps, and all manner of other bugs and beasties…

but…

… it was the bad bee that bothered the beautiful butterfly,

by bombarding her with… alliteration,

“Buzz, buzz be gone!” bade the bee.

Meanwhile, an army of caterpillars marched by, unnoticed by all but me.

Billy Butterfly

Billy Butterfly

liked a flutter,

a gambling butterfly was he;

Billy Butterfly

liked to flutter

to the bookies

at a quarter to three;

where he’d place a bet

on ‘Mother’s Pride’

or ‘Wingin’ It’

or the like;

and Billy Butterfly

often won

the attention of a cashier

named Brie.

Both being of a type,

they dated and flew,

as a pair of courting Flutterbys

are apt to do.

Billy gave up gambling,

and they both settled down,

spending their days

just skimming the hedgerows

on the outskirts of town.

The Leaf and the Butterfly

I saw a green leaf falling

and it looked like a butterfly;

then I saw a butterfly

and it looked like a leaf,

a green one –

so, now, I’m feeling confused.

The Butterfly Flea

“What is in it for me?”

said the Butterfly,

“And why are you calling I—

sorry, why are you calling me

a Butterflea Fly?

when I am obviously, a butterfly flea—

oh, now you’re confusing me…

I am

a butterfly;

but, really, I should be called

a flutterby,

do you see?”

How High (Can a Butterfly Fly?)

How high?

Quite high?

Not very high at all?

Really high (higher than our garden wall)?

As high as in the film The Aeronauts’?

How high?

As high as an elephant’s eye?

High enough to watch the clouds go by?

Higher than a leaping building?

Higher than an all time low?

As high as an outfielder on grass, fielding?

Higher than a geographical lake – obviously an ox-bow?

How high can a butterfly

fly?

I ask, because,

I’ve just seen a butterfly

flutter by –

three feet off the ground.

The butterfly and the duckling

Liskeard Writers Prompt for 21/01/2020: Picture prompt – the butterfly and the duckling.

When you think about reincarnation, as I’m sure you do from time to time, do you consider the possibility that you would come back as a long-living creature – such as an Aldabra Giant Tortoise or a Greenland Shark, or a creature with a short life-span, such as an adult Mayfly or a House Mouse

Well, this story involves two people that meet, fall in love, and die, all too young, in an airplane crash.

They are pure-hearted souls that qualified, without dispute, for reincarnation.

Jessica was transformed into a beautiful Blue Morpho butterfly; Leonides, strangely inappropriately, was reincarnated as a duckling, an ugly duckling, with feathers all stubby and brown.

As you know, or maybe you don’t, all animals, insects, mammals (apart from most humans) have the ability to converse with each other. They don’t always choose to; but, they can hold conversations in many ways apart from the spoken language that we expect of them.

So, Jessica and Leonides were able to find each other by a series of clicks, quacks, chirps, flutters, and a fair degree of luck.

They remained friends throughout their reincarnated lives, sadly Jessica’s was one of brevity, and Leonides grew to be an ugly swan, who used the brute strength of his wings to quell the dissatisfaction that he felt at not having also been brought back as a beautiful butterfly, where he could spend a brief, but exquisite, life with Jessica – as they had done when in human form.

The calendar that their picture adorns is a tribute to a moment in their second lives. And the picture was taken from an actual scene that caught the artist’s eye – so beautiful it was.

The Butterfly

The Butterfly

The butterfly did flee,

it seems he was afraid of me

he flew so fast, I barely saw him go

and where he goes I do not know.

An admiral from the Russian Navy

once stopped a while and spoke with me,

“Do you prefer the butterfly, or the flea?”

I told him it was all the same to me,

whether it be,

the flutter of a butterfly

the braying of a flea,

or the saying that,

‘whatever a bee will be… will be.’

The admiral smiled,

and looked at me,

handed me his cap

in humility,

and now, I am the ruler of the Tsar’s navy!

The butterflies won’t stand still for me

The butterflies won’t stand still for me

The butterflies won’t stand still for me;

don’t they realise I need to study them

up close;

but they just flitter

here and there

they won’t stand still,

they just don’t care,

that I cannot focus upon

their beauty

at

all.