The intoxicated butterfly

She perched there, eyes closed,
listening to the serene melody,
as nature belted out one musical note after another.
As i watched , mesmerised, a mother’s reprimand wafted across
merging with the sloughing of trees , the twitter of birds ,
the barking of dogs , the yodeling of pigeons,
the lowing of cows , and the sound of conch shells .
So many sounds going round and round in my head,
like the drunk butterfly,
staggering from one flower to the next.

The sun smiled, splashing its rays over her fragile body.
She glowed, swooning with pleasure.
The leaves smiled green smiles.
With the fragrance of a myriad roses bloated
now the butterfly floated towards the undulating plains,
snuggling next to her nectarine dreams
pocketing the many gains, absolutely intoxicated .

Ah, look, how she now sits on a coral – pink rose,
flinging open the doors of long lost vistas,
see how she is now ensconced
on a discarded terracotta bowl,
masquerading as a flowerpot,
catapulting me to those pots of the past,
in which granny rustled up culinary delights,
the flavor of childhood lingering, still
filling me with feelings, sweet and sour.
Drenched in bliss ineffable,
I am now a butterfly, drunk on life.

7 thoughts on “The intoxicated butterfly

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