Free Poetry Essay on The Butterfly
Uploaded by Nabutsabi on Sep 28, 2012
The Butterfly
See this beautiful insect
And give it your respect
If not for its many colours
Then for its body contours
Because it was once an egg
They a pupa without any leg
As it waited to become a butterfly
A pretty insect that can fly
Similarly, you may lack a pen or fees
And even study seated under trees
But your beauty will surface tomorrow
You will fly high when you endure sorrow.
The Prefect
In the school just across the river
Where children learn about the liver
And the teachers reward good performance
Is a prefect whose name is Lawrence.
Lawrence goes to school early enough
Even earlier than any member of staff
He stands at the gat to arrest
Students who come land and the rest.
He administers punishment to them
Then he excuses others without blame
As he chats merrily with the gateman
Till break time, like a gentleman.
To the Dining Hall he goes very promptly
And ensures order quite successfully
From there he goes to the gateman
Where he chats till four, like a gentleman.
Meanwhile, others have studied Maths
Known, pluses, minuses, divisions and graphs
As the prefect gets his books to leave
He has learnt much, I believe.
Reflections
I remember that brilliant evening
Fading into a luster dusk
Where moon and sum struck
A balance- moon sucked in sun.
I remember the first tune of
The Nightingale signaling
The arrival of the night and
The crickets replying in unison.
Then it was time for the lonely youth
To saunter out of hiding
Because the lighting of the
House lantern had all but
Heralded the prison within, yet
Oblivious of the freedom without
Eyes glazed with worldly cares
All glued to the flicker of the candle.
Hers ere not eyes of remorse
They were eager to behold, to peer
And scan the horizon
For the awaited ones shadow
Suddenly, there was a brave
Daring raid of the confident lad
Matching into the forbidden territory
Where his heroine, like a shelled chick
A heartbeat was missed and
Splash! The bath was hurried
So that the imprisoned hearts
Could find liberation.
Liberation? Yes! From the parents
Who could not discern the beats
Which had discovered the heritage
In oneness sheltered by the granary.
There was a flurry of emotion
Heart to heart; locked in fierce embrace
Not caring for what the environs held
For this was indeed God-given.
Did God not create the surrounding?
Until … Stella! The milk will spill over;
Where are your? Sam...