I ran through the woods chasing a pink butterfly,
caught it with my net, but fell down a deep hole
dug there for no purpose at all.
Tried to get back up but lumps of earth kept falling
tired I released the insect which, close up, wasn’t
that nice, “one of us must survive,” I nobly said.
Alas, it had a damaged wing couldn’t fly just sat
there on a lump of dirt looked miserable and cold
it was now up to me to safe us both.
I was able to lasso the net on a tree root sticking
out, put the butterfly in my mouth and heaved
myself up but accidentally swallowed the insect.
This sadden me deeply my effort of being good
had ended in failure and also, the swallowing
made me feel- somewhat- nauseous too.
In the glade I met a sharp eyed hex and told her
what had befallen a verb I only used to impress
her, as she had a red pen in her hand.
“Don’t worry” she said, when you see a beautiful
woman, tell her of your love for her, the butterfly
will fly from your lips to her tender heart.
When I see the woman in the post office I go all
tongue tied and shy, she’s so young and if I speak
the butterfly will fly and she’ll be horrified.
Even worse, she could tell someone about my
declaration of love and soon they will laugh,
look at this silly old man falling in love at his age.