Cabbage whites float through the air and give butterfly kisses

Cabbage whites–come bright butterflies…

Cabbage whites–those little white butterflies who meander through the air. I see them all over, and especially on my morning walks. I love to write about my morning walks–last week I wrote about bindweed and a few weeks back about the wonderful birds. Back in the old days, when I taught Waldorf Early Childhood full-time, I used to sing a song with the children (while we flew around like butterflies, often using silk scarves for wings):

Come bright butterfly close to me,

Your beautiful wings I should like to see.

You fly like a bird, you sip like a bee,

But you’re really a flower the wind set free.

These cabbage whites do look like flowers the wind set free.

They fly in a kind of ruffly pattern, not in a hurry to go anywhere. A week or so ago, on my morning walk, one of these little floaters wound around my ankles–twice! I was quite amazed and it made me wonder why–what was going on in that tiny butterfly brain that caused that flutterer to abandon the purple flowers and it’s fellows winged friends.

So in honor of Poetry Friday–

I wrote a poem about my encounter with my wee winged wanderer.

This week, Poetry Friday is hosted by Margaret on her blog, Reflections on the Teche. Thanks for hosting, Margaret! Be sure to stop by and check out her blog and also see what others poets have to say–or join in yourself!

Funnily enough, this is the second poem I wrote about this experience. The first one was a tanka–my first ever–and I thought it was pretty good. But like the butterfly, it fluttered away, never to be seen again. I really have no idea where it went, but between setting up a new computer and putting in my new bookcases and moving everything around–and perhaps general spaciness (due to the heat, no doubt)–it disappeared. Perhaps it’s hiding in a cocoon somewhere and will emerge in the future. I tried to re-create it, but didn’t like the result–so instead, here’s what I came up with:

Butterfly kisses

Cabbage white, why do you go

winding around my ankles so?

Not once but twice, you float around

my white-clad ankles without a sound.

Do you think I’m a flower sweet

that will offer you yummy nectar to eat?

Or do you think I’m a possible mate,

giant, graying, and bifurcate?

Then you daintily flit away

to find real flowers with which to play.

Thanks for circling ’round my feet,

Letting me pause and contempleet.

That’s all for today–thanks for stopping by.

I hope you get lots of butterfly kisses and experience the wonders of nature often!

xoxo