Poems of a Butterfly

I wrote this poem a few months ago, and then I forgot about it. I kept on writing and I opened my folders on the computer where the title of the document occasionally popped up, “Poems of a butterfly”, but it remained locked away. I was always busy with another writing project.

Today, however, I thought that it was time to let this butterfly fly. So, here she is, my trapped butterfly.

Butterfly, Freedom Cries


Free, or is she?

Fluttering her wings, in her sight a flower, not far

Long yellow petals , framing a soft creamy heart

Where bees happily buzz and dart



How she longs to join the frenzy

Her wings heave slightly,

Shiver in the breeze

The flower beckons

Awaits and summons

poems about a butterfly


Blue wings, adorned by a red eye

Majestically rise, braving the wind

Struggling to escape the silken trap, wanting to fly

In anticipation, the spider grins



Silk threads entangle her feet

She twists and turns

While the spider watches her treat

Eight spindly legs move, with no effort on this silk trapeze

In fear, butterfly’s heart burns




Trembles in fear

Life and death, so close, so near

Clinging to this brittle life

While death approaches, its fangs poised to strike



Wings flutter in despair

The spider, so close, a terrifying glare

The eyes, firmly fixed on her

Legs reach out, poison ready to deter

Sweet butterfly, there is no way out


Silk spins, engulfs her feet,

Her wings flutter in defiance

Praying for a last moment reprieve

Silk flies, the spider falls, caught in a lucky alliance

flying bird


Free, or is she?

A silk thread flies in the breeze

That falls from the remnants of the web,

Destroyed by the bird that flees

A larger predator in the sky,

Having tossed the silk behind

And you, Butterfly

Free, yes, you are

Wings flap in the air

And take you to the flower, its petals bare

No longer waiting from afar


Go, Butterfly

Go, find your way

Your destination awaits

There is no deadly bite or sting

Go, my dear, release those beautiful wings



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  1. Poets can do incredible things. Poetry is magic. Reading poetry can get your imagination to fly over the sky or make you feel that you are on an incredible journey. Let´s pretend we make poetry of a Butterfly:


    Wings tremble in despair crawler, 

    so close, a scary glowThe eyes, 

    strongly chosen her legs to connect, 

    poisonous substance prepared to discourageWonderful butterfly, 

    there is no chance out silk rotates, 

    engulfs her feet, 

    Her wings tremble in defianceWishing a last-minute respite

    Silk flies, the crawler drops, 

    captured in a fortunate partnership.

    Well, this was perhaps not the very best poetry, but imagine.

  2. This is a very beautiful piece. Poets can do incredible things. Poetry is magic. Reading poetry can get your imagination to fly over the sky or make you feel that you are on an incredible journey. Butterflies are beautiful tender creatures. This is how I see them. I wonder how some people manage to hurt them. 

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