Tag Archives: #Butterfly

“Your Guttering!”

“Your guttering

is spluttering!”

said a fluttering butterfly

that was just passing by.

I looked,

and it was.


“Why?” I questioned.


“Bee cause it is.”

buzzed a busy bee.


Which made much sense to me.

‘As I walked around with a sprig of Buddleia in my hat’

As I walked around

with a sprig of Buddleia in my hat

a bee hopped on board,

then a butterfly,

then more

and more

and more,

until I had become a veritable charabanc

for the flying fraternity –

and a sight to see I was at that.

100m Butterfly

I went to the Olympics,

in search of this very long (and rare) species;

but, like all the other Lepidopterists there,

was sadly disappointed to find

that I had been blind

to the reality of the term.

Anyway, I’m off now to guess

the age of the dress event.

A Bee and a Butterfly went to Sea.

A Bee and a Butterfly went to sea

in a dark blue sailing boat;

whilst on the sea,

they drank green tea,

and had no adventures to note.


But, on the way back,

the sky turned black,

the boat capsized and sank.

‘Oh, no!’ you cried, ‘They must have died!

Or what Saviour can we thank?’


However, the Bee and the Butterfly

did not die,

they simply flew away,

to sail again, upon glistening seas,

on some such other day .

‘Butterfly Account’

How can I do a butterfly count?

When I cannot even correctly count the correct amount?

For all they do is flutter about;

I think I’ve seen that one before,

but it could very well be a different one;

in my mind, there is a doubt;

but, there, there is one that I’ve definitely already seen,

I think, therefore I mean…

… a small tortoiseshell,

upon a leaf, green –

although, it looks the same

as this other similar butterfly,

(it butterflies belief!)

if only they had a name

badge, I could tell which was which;

It would be a relief

if I knew

who was whom,

and whom was who,

and whether I’d already counted them once or twice

(and maybe thrice),

as about the hedges they continue to zoom.

“Where have all the butterflies gone?”

Where have all the butterflies gone?

“Where are ya? Where are ya?

Have you gone off for a nap or a scone?”


‘That seems unlikely;

but, when thought upon,

is as likely as not.’

said a lone Oxford don.

A Butterfly Has 6 Eyes – revisited:

I have been told

that a butterfly

has six eyes;

however, ‘Biuititieirfily’ is, obviously, quite wrong.

Flying Crooked – Robert Graves

The butterfly, the cabbage white,

(His honest idiocy of flight)

Will never now, it is too late,

Master the art of flying straight,

Yet has — who knows so well as I? —

A just sense of how not to fly:

He lurches here and here by guess

And God and hope and hopelessness.

Even the aerobatic swift

Has not his flying-crooked gift.

The orange tip

Hurrah! Hurrah! the orange tip

who would not stay,

her bags unzip,

and take up a place upon a leaf,

actually settled for a second;

best endeavours

catch a picture

that is like a bas relief

to me.

Butterfly Stop

A butterfly

set down atop

a spiky plant

a mome to stop.

“I think I’ll stay!”

I heard her say,

then she flew off –

and all within a second –

brief, though her visit was,

on she went,

her rest time spent,

as the lure of flight still beckoned.