Here is a quote from John Keats. It is taken from ‘Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne:


I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.” ~ John Keats


Think of three “delights” you could present to someone on a summer day. Write them into your poem. Or even pen a butterfly poem! Or an ‘Ode to a Bright Star’.

You’re being given a free reign to write to this fine summer day!


    Summer of My Independence

    can’t control
    the heat
    nor make a breeze
    through a painted
    shut window
    or block out
    enticing smells
    from the bakery below
    that waft up
    the darkened stairs
    to fill my pockets
    tossed in a pile
    the only thing
    standing tall
    in my empty
    I melt
    on the hardwood floor
    like frosting
    on a cooling cake
    a squeezed out rag
    drips around my neck
    hangs in the shadows
    as our shouted words
    make delicious pictures
    upon my wall.

    A Few Earthly Delights

    If it was mine, I’d have given her the world,
    everything in great shape, shiny, like new,
    and she’d probably have liked that,
    would have appreciated it too.
    But I have owned so little of it,
    not much of it mine,
    so I have given her instead,
    a daily homemade valentine.
    In the past, the gifts have varied,
    some patchouli oil, some seeds,
    like for the Cosmos I didn’t care for,
    but flowers perfect for her needs.
    I’m a bit wiser now,
    well older anyhow,
    still own little of the world today,
    and what’s it matter anyway?
    I recently located the best gift of all,
    better than top shelf or anything up above,
    almost forty-six years into marriage,
    I’ve never been so in love.

  3. 🌞

    Between Here and There

    The beach sings white.
    Children heard, cheers
    deferred to birds above,
    or the hard crack of
    rock candy between teeth.
    On the rise, a breeze.
    Such sweet relief;
    we are in
    a momentary peacetime.
    Between bad news.
    Half way to a tide’s ebb.
    Half way to melting.
    In the grasp of sun.
    In the startled air.
    We stare beyond
    what we see.


    © Misky 2016, for Poetic Bloomings, Day 25


    One more summer fell to earth
    when God opened up His hand.
    From one monarch to the highest,
    I thank Him for this one-time grace
    to flutter free across his land.

    I will treasure every moment
    as if each one were golden.
    I will give less time to fear
    whatever perils come
    and more to joys unfolding.

    I will not be a summer fool
    who looks beyond the season,
    but rather make the best of time,
    ingesting life’s sweet nectar
    That, from flowers, is quite pleasing.

    I will accept the warming rays
    of sun upon my orange wings.
    I’ll carry it in gardens bright
    until the summer flowers wilt
    and birds no longer sing.


    Four Again

    If only we were four
    I’d give you the last
    cherry popsicle
    and let you jump in
    the pool first
    If only we were four
    I’d share my hot dog
    with you
    and even put ketchup
    on it because that’s
    how you like it
    If only we were four
    I would hold your hand
    and give you big hugs
    and cry when you had
    to go home
    just for today
    we could be four


    I give you my time.
    Moments which I offer
    to show how important
    you are; that you matter
    more than you know,
    and surely more than I tell you.
    I give you my time,
    to share every minute.
    Together, they are hours.

    I give you my heart.
    Emotions run deep as I keep
    you secure within. It would be
    a sin for butterfly kisses to miss
    their mark. I hearken to you.
    My love is true and you are
    all I need to succeed in this world.
    I carry your banner, unfurled
    and I give you my heart.

    I give you my life.
    A gift returned as it has been given.
    Living each moment in love,
    behooving me to protect and shield
    and never to yield my guard.
    It is hard to not serve you
    with my heart over the time
    of my life. It is rife with you!
    I give you me life, it’s true!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

    If I were …

    If I were a butterfly
    I’d fly so high
    So high I’d fly
    If I were a butterfly
    I’d flutter high
    High in the sky
    If I were a butterfly

    © Earl Parsons

    My dearest Granddaughter,
    Pack your bathing suit, shorts, and flip flops.
    We are going swimming til the sun drops.
    Then we will eat ice cream and watch the moon;
    Listen to the crickets with their nightly tune.
    Swimming, ice cream, and cricket serenade;
    Every night this will be our crusade,
    Making memories, just you and me.
    Be ready, Grammy is coming for thee.


    All I wanted was to give you a gift –
    A pretty something you could wear
    On your wrist,
    Or around your neck.
    Something having nothing to do
    With construction paper,
    or crayons.
    Something purchased with paper money
    From a department store.
    Something wrapped in ribbon.

    Now all I want is to give you a gift –
    Something having nothing to do
    With purchases
    With paper money.
    I want to give you
    Sunny smiles,
    Smooth sailing,
    Sweet solace.

    Blue Butterfly

    I fell in love
    with blue morpho
    butterflies. Edged
    in ebony, the wings
    are iridescent blue
    as of fine stained
    glass. I have worshipped
    them from photographs
    only, as their natural
    habitat is in tropical forests
    of Latin America. Imagine
    witnessing a kaleidoscope
    of blue butterflies flittering
    through air like moving mosaics.

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