05 Thursday Sep 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, butterflies, grief, happenstance, longing, loss, memories, moonbeams, poetry, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
So what perchance
made you like her,
with rainbow shoes
and butterfly hair,
gold treacle voice
and moonbeam eyes;
was it a plan, or
happenstance?
© Happenstance 05.09.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Butterfly flying free from cupped hands (Photo credit: Beverly & Pack)
24 Saturday Aug 2013
Tags
Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddhism, butterflies, contentment, enlightenment, poetry, simplicity, stillness, sun, UK poet, Uk poetry, Yorkshire poet
just as the butterfly
settles on a flower
and spreads her wings
in reverence to the sun
so
let our minds
still, and feast
on the nectar
of this sublime
life
© Stillness 20.08.2013
by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
Der Schmetterlingsjäger (The butterfly hunter) by Carl Spitzweg (1840), a depiction from the era of butterfly collection. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
24 Thursday May 2012
Posted in Daily life, Humour, Love, Poetry
Tags
butterflies, buzzy bees, candy floss, depression, essence, excitement, fairground, giggle, happiness, heart, kites, lairy, love, oscilloscope, poetry, skipping
My tummy feels like summer,
or a giggle just set free,
like a flitter of lairy butterflies,
and a swarm of buzzy bees.
My heart beats to the rhythm,
of girls who jump the rope,
bouncing like a bright beach ball,
shown on some Oscilloscope.
My mind spins like the waltzer,
at a gaily lit up fair.
My head is full of candy floss,
and kites that surf the air.
If I could catch the essence,
and save a jar or two,
I’d keep them in my cupboard,
for when I’m feeling blue.
© Fair Days and Foul 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
A waltzer in motion. The operator walks the boards to spin the cars (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
30 Monday Apr 2012
Posted in Deep Stuff!, Longing & Waiting, Poetry
Tags
butterflies, cry, Daffodils, days, death, fleeting, longing, loss, memories, migrate, Mother, mourning, Mum, poetry, tears, wilderness
The Wilderness Years are over,
they are with us no more;
while birds migrate for winter time,
so Death has closed the door.
The days were, oh, so fleeting,
like butterflies in spring.
The time we spent together
made my lonely heart sing.
Shared memories of daffodils,
we laughed until we cried –
we cried until our tears ran dry,
I was ever by your side.
How could this have happened?
How could you leave this way?
I always think about us –
and mourn you every-day.
© Wilderness Years 2012
By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm
A show of daffodils by the A6091 Melrose bypass road These daffodils are on the northeast embankment of the A6091 near Melrose Roundabout. The verges of a 3km length of road from the roundabout to the eastern end of Melrose were planted with daffodils several years ago [562294]. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Worldly Winds 