Category: Butterflies

There sways outside my window ledge
Cecropia’s streamlined cocoon;
A caterpillar miracle
Of light and leaf and golden noon.

The brown-and-red furred adult moth
Will from her sleep of pseudo-death
Step forth when her alarm clock rings:
The gentlest sound of April’s breath.

by Ray Romine Saturday, June 23, 1951

Oh Spring is nearly here, lads
I’m happy as can be:
It’s soon that we’ll be scrapping,
Ye olde butterfly and me!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, September 4, 1934

Oh soon it will be Summer time,
The breeze is telling me.
With sunny days and moony nights,
How dandy that’ll be.

But think you I’ll be golfing then
Or fishing futilely?
Oh–no–that only goes to show
You don’t know little me.

The jig-saw failed to get my goat:
Technocracy the same.
Compared with this thing wrong with  me
Those things are very tame.

For l’ll be out there in the woods
Or romping o’er the lea,
And in hand there’ll be a net–
Insane? Oh–I’ll agree.

Yes, I’ll be chasing butterflies
Or dueling with a bee
For I’ve gone buggy over bugs
And that’s what’s wrong with me!

And yet I’m scared lest some poor soul
Should see me running free
have the bug-house keeper come
With HIS net after ME!

by Ray Romine Friday, March 17, 1933