Wednesday, 9 June 2021

Those years I regret


Looking back I really hate myself

That adventurous young teen

That explored the woods and fields

Hoping to find butterlies

To take them home, pinning them

In a box to display the all to see

Getting lists of lists of those rare ones

That might be found in the woods

Or skimming over the ponds or streams

Just a short distant walk from home

They were of course beautiful

But not so much when they were dead

And now in my advanced years

I very much enjoy seeing them fly

Flitting over the garden flowers

Tasting the many plants nectar

But lasting little more that summer

Before time is called for them

As cool autumn says time is up

And their offspring breed next year



9 comments:

  1. Well, at least you have lived to arrive at a better understanding and feel remorse – and also to teach your children and grandchildren better. I love your lines about the present – beautiful.

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  2. Changes changes, we all must go through changes
    Happy Wednesday Robin

    Much💛love

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  3. They are so much more beautiful flying about and landing on a flower. So fun to watch them feed.

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  4. I'm in that wonderful woods with you, Robin. Good point, butterflies are made for us to watch, not to put in boxes or jars for them to die early.
    ..

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  5. Your retrospection brought to my mind a young me and my friend climbing the rafters in our barn and knocking down the nests of barn swallows just for kicks. I guess we account for the term "older and wiser"!

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  6. One of my aunts collected and pinned butterflies to a velvet board. I found it really creepy and still do. I love watching them flutter about. My Mother came back as a yellow butterfly.

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  7. One of those regrettable memories, but you appreciate their beauty and lives now.

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  8. When I was very young, I used to do the same thing with flowers--cut them and collect them for my amusement. I, too, regret those days. Today, like you, I prefer to let living things live--they look so much prettier as nature intended them... blooming... flying.

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