I saw a blue butterfly,
up where the grass is dust grey:
wings blue as the summer sky,
as day starts to fade away,
blue as a young lover’s sigh,
as love starts to drift away,
careless as a butterfly.


For Frank at dVerse – a septet. This particular one rhymes (!) and has seven syllables in each of its seven lines. This is the last of the week’s “7” prompts for the 7th Anniversary of dVerse. You know, where the poets are. 


15 thoughts on “Blue

  1. This is a thing… and you have captured it so well, a person sees something, and the image overlies with their emotional state or need, it just doesn’t happen to poetical types. The butterfly flits along like the love, you can see it, it is beautiful, but it drifts, the blue sky day fades. I relate a little too much to this. Achingly beautiful. The rhyming structure facilitates the thematic circle nicely, literally caries it around the compass until it ends where it started.


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