I still remember the first time I saw a Monarch flutter by.
Out of the blue, a tiny magician wearing orange wings dropped by.
Show was free, but did he have to disappear? "Butterfly? Butterfly?
Where are you hiding? Still here, I know!" I cried.
When someone told me that my fat, furry caterpillar friend
Was a butterfly waiting to be born, I fell in love a second time.
Pull a rabbit out of a hat? Boring. Here's a trick where the end
Is the beginning. "You win!" I knelt beside Furry and mimed.
"Look it up," Teacher said. "Under ‘Monarch butterfly,’ expect.”
Mumbo-jumbo, mumbo. . . "species," Danaus plexippus," "digitalis."
But there’s a picture. Under it, "monarch means king." All set!
King tickles, rest is jibberish. Whoever heard of a "chrysalis?"
In time, I came to love every word. Butterflies, even more.
But the love has become tarnished by anger, regret, and shame.
If we don't change our ways, all that will be in store
Is barren, gray, empty. We will forget the magician’s name.
Not only will we be missing butterflies, but myths that we hold dear.
That keep our dreams alive. We need to think the souls of the dead
Are near and at peace, and flying cupids will renew vows to revere
Life-long. Lives will expand, and outworn shells will be shed.
Never to see the tawny, dark-veined wings of a see-now-don’t Monarch
Fold together as in prayer? Walk a tight-wire between leaf and stem
And spy snow-white polka-dots that shimmer so, they set off sparks?
No trees or milkwood, no show. Magician, or anyone to grieve for him.
(c) Phyllis Jean Green
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|Reviewed by Joyce Bell
|WHAT A BEAUTIFUL CALL FOR THE PRESERVATION OF ONE OF THE LOVELIEST GIFTS OF NATURE THAT EXISTS...TRULY A WORTHY SUBJECT THROUGH WHICH WE CAN DEFINITELY SEE OURSELVES. DONE SO WELL AND ENJOYED. THANKS FOR SHARING, PHYLLIS. LOVE, BLESSINGS & FAITH...
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
|Reviewed by William Bonilla
|Excellent write Phylis
I've photo a Monarch that landed on
a beautiful floral bust, of my favorite colors
She amplified its beauty 10 folds
She flew away, but I stole her soul
Her eternal Image......
Love & Peace be with you
|Reviewed by Elizabeth Russo
|A beautiful glimpse of the Monarch, a sad view of our world and what it (and we) have become. Hopefully, if we're smart, we'll change and the magician will mesmerize forever. Wonderful write. ~Elizabeth|
|Reviewed by C. McGovern-Bowen
|well done, phyllis. having been blessed with the vision of
monarch's amassed among eucalyptus woods, i do most appreciate
your lament and plea. mother earth needs for us to pay attention
and to ACT.
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
|I am undone by the power, the truths in these lines -- thank you, Pea, for remembering the Master's hand in all things created, for good or bad.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|The monarch is truly nature as a great magician. I marvel at how the milk weed makes the monarch so poisonous that it will kill a bird that eats it. Also that it takes many generations for the monarch to leave its winter paradise and traveled north as far as Canada to breed its young and turn the miracle into magic again and again.
|Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader)
|Wowwww..this ia amazing sweet lady...Hugss|
|Reviewed by Liana Margiva
|VERY BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva|
|Reviewed by Gene Williamson
|First, dear Phyllis, I concur totally with the concept and
execution of this lovely and insightful poem. Next, I have
to say that you are the magician and your pen is your wand,
and I increasingly a slave to your words. -gene.
|Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart
|Monarchs are so gorgeous and so is your poem Phyllis, a joy to read.|
|Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
|oh, so well written. Morgan|
|Reviewed by John Flanagan
|Very fine musings, Pea, and absolutely
relevant now, the beauty and elegance
of the naturally evolved world dying before our eyes;
your last stanza is prayer, prayer for our
redemption and change of style and attitude
as much as anything else.
|Reviewed by H. Lena Jones
|Isn't amazing that God in His infinite wisdom has created at things bright and beautiful; all things great and small...all for us to enjoy...all for us to attend to with love.
Lovely write, Phyllis.
|Reviewed by Jon Willey
|Pea, it is as if we have disestablished the sanctuary of life for all creatures that are not man. Poignant and reflective of what we have wrought. Love and peace be with you my dear friend. Jon Michael|
|Reviewed by Barbara Terry
|This is so very true Pea. So very true. Nature is there for us to enjoy, the monarch butterfly, two praying mantises fighting, the caterpillar inching along, the Leaves of the trees, the benath our feet, the flowers all different kinds, all different colors. The sky, the clouds, the rivers and lakes, the mountains, the rolling hills. These are all gifts from our Lord God that we call nature and He put it here for us to enjoy. The stars that twinkle in the night are such a sight, the fish swimming in the brook, the laughter of little children. Yes God gave children laughter so that we might enjoy hearing such happy sounds. Thank you for sharing this uplifting piece.
May the Lord Jesus bless you, and those whom you love, and be with you always, and at your side constantly. With much love in my heart, joy to the world, peace on earth, & ((((((((((MANY WONDERFUL SISTERLY HUGGGGSSSS)))))))))), your little sister, Barbie
|Reviewed by Sheila Roy
|I love this one, Phyllis. You've taken an overdone topic (butterflies, in general, no offense) and breathed fresh life into it with your authentic style of writing. I especially like the descriptions in the last verse. Fantastic!
|Reviewed by TONY NERONE
|Fine write on the butterfly and the caterpillar. Imagine if we could do it to. What bird would you like to be?
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|Thank you for conscious awareness of this issue! I had no idea...
Absolutely luminous poem.
|Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
|beautiful and profound as well!|
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|Sad but true.\fee|
|Reviewed by Mr. Ed
|If we don't change our ways, all that will be in store
Is barren, gray, empty. We will forget the magicianís name.
How so sadly true. Even the lovely Monarch is now on the decline on our now rapidly declining planet.
|Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
|The magician floating above the mirror
Of the glazed caress of the pond so dear
Flapped her wings and shed a final tear
There would be no caterpillars again this year
Her wand held no magic
Would anyone care
Never again to see her wings
Folded together in prayer.