Thursday, September 1, 2011

BUTTERFLIES .. A poem by Margaret Mccafferty


Margaret Mccafferty11:18am Aug 31
BUTTERFLIES

Butterflies in the stomach, butterflies on the wing
Butterflies in the summer and butterflies in the spring
Yellow gold iridescent blue look now there its watching you
Why do you use the name chrysalis people often say
and I stand and laugh as a butterfly goes its way
A chrysaliss is encased for months in an ugly a brown shell
Then out he wriggles happy to see Joseph passed his coat to me
Even Solomon in his wisdom would have marveled at thee

Here is a short story true as I see
A little boy with weeks to live standing by a tree
Mummy he said with a glitter in his eye
Look at my angels the rainbows and butterfly’s
A woman developed the photos ,at her ;local lab
Deprived at the loss she suddenly wasn’t sad
Because there in the photo clear as light
Were flashes of angels and multicolored light

This woman was a teacher and to try to fill the void
Martin loved butterfly’s so with this idea they toyed
The teacher researched all that she could
Everything with butterfly’s, cardboard stone or wood
The children made hanging windmills made of paper
The stone mason carved a butterfly with his name a short while later
The class was filled from wall to ceiling
Of numerous butterfly’s of every description
Some hung high or taped on the wall
But most precious was, the love in it all

A couple of months after a miracle arrived
the headmaster had donated funds for a butterfly garden as a surprise
The children of p7 knew who the memory was in
So they planted the flowers and put butterflies within
The mother of the boy some six months later
Told a journalist the truth to brighten the paper
All 32 children and two adult staff
Were not the only ones to bring this to pass
Because just as a chrysaliss breaks free from its cocoon
I know my boys in heaven but will visit me soon
Just at that the photographer took her picture
Who was there ,but a butterfly having a flicker
Say what you want she says, and always will
That butterfly was my son or a sign of the grace of gods will

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