Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward, <br /> strong beyond the garden-wall! <br />Butterfly, why do you settle on my <br /> shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe, <br />Lifting your veined wings, lifting them? <br /> big white butterfly! <br /> <br />Already it is October, and the wind <br /> blows strong to the sea <br />from the hills where snow must have <br /> fallen, the wind is polished with <br /> snow. <br />Here in the garden, with red <br /> geraniums, it is warm, it is warm <br />but the wind blows strong to sea-ward, <br /> white butterfly, content on my shoe! <br /> <br />Will you go, will you go from my warm <br /> house? <br />Will you climb on your big soft wings, <br /> black-dotted, <br />as up an invisible rainbow, an arch <br />till the wind slides you sheer from the <br /> arch-crest <br />and in a strange level fluttering you go <br /> out to sea-ward, white speck! <br /> <br /> <br />Anonymous submission.<br /><br />David Herbert Lawrence<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/butterfly-8/
