#poetry - When She Has Done Her Storm

for Gabriella 

chased a butterfly
into an open field.
   never asked or knew why.
stood awhile, mean and rude,
   lulled and soothed, by and by,
and quiet as she came.

palm extended, flat and warm,
   landing quite a plain thing---
rock, branch, blade of grass,
   a white unbroken petal---
the field of glowing landing sites,
   yet her legs, my hand's delight!

and i somehow get confused
   by her gesture, by her choice.
that i am the one she means to lay upon,
   that my colors and scent are her taste,
not though her wings are tired,
   but this day my palm is the flower's dismay!

the field around evaporates,
   though connected in color and shape---
the forms they take and the games they play!
   limbs, by light and air, detect
roots, all rich below, that must protect---
scapes, this gyspy queen sprightly wanders,
   this gentleman's firm palms and ponders.

but heart pulsing incites her flutter,
   and aloft she, butterfly!
away from this man!! not to grass, nor to sand,
   for neither leave nor limb alone can fill
her needs, only airborn swim...but still

if this man can hold his form of palm,
   then this dear butterfly,
may yet land again,
   when she has done her storm.

love, after lennon

i was feeling all alone
and my thoughts began to roam,
had somebody on my brain,
might have actually gone insane.

i didn't mean to love you,
i'm sorry and i don't know why.
and i don't want to love you,
i'm just helpless guy.

i was feeling through the past
and the wind was moving fast.
what a journey, what a train,
what a roadblocked memory lane!

how could it be i love you?
i'm honest now, i don't know why,
and still don't want to love you
but that's just a sigh.

i am feeling on the ball
and am deaf now to your call.
here with numbness, but no pain,
skin with scars but still no stain.

and here i am, though i love you,
no more thinking about the why.
it does no good to love you,
you're just a butterfly, a butterfly.