Poetry Sunday

I've been blessed recently by a collection of poety given to me by a good friend. I really forgot how wonderful this stuff was! I think sunday is best for posting poetry, something reflective about the day that helps my crowded mind find the beauty in the words. So! here is my first poem, from A Book Of Luminous Things, D.H. Lawrence.


Butterfly

Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward, strong beyond the
            garden-wall!
Butterfly, why do you settle on my shoe, and sip the dirt
            on my shoe,
Lifting your veined wings, lifting them? big white butterfly!

Already it is October, and the wind blows strong to the sea
from the hills where snow must have fallen, the wind is
            polished with snow.

Here in the garden, with red geraniums, it is warm, it is
            warm
but the wind blows strong to sea-ward, white butterfly,
            content on my shoe!

Will you go, will you go from my warm house?
Will you climb on your big soft wings, black-dotted,
as up an invisible rainbow, an arch
till the wind slides you sheer from the arch-crest
and in a strange level fluttering you go out to sea-ward,
             white speck!

Farewell, Farewell, lost soul!
You have melted in the crystalline distance,
It is enough! I saw you vanish into air.