It was interesting to hear more about the moth. Similar to the beauty of a butterfly, however with difference.
It appears that moths tend to be stockier and have furry bodies, whereas butterflies are smooth and lean. Difference also in their array of colours, and moths have been known to cause grief, when they enter the home, as they are able to feed off many types of things for their survival.
So, what do moths conjure for you? Where does it lead you? You never know what associations or triggers arrive and this week showed that for some of us.
We hope you enjoy our poems this week.
Feel free to comment or pass on for others to experience these short journeys.
The next week’s word is ‘colour’
Hope to see you there.
Nine times I use your name Ms. Moth
Unlike Butterflies Moths prefer to fly at night
Their Motherboard of genetics
Tiny small medium or mammoth
Are seeking out the moonlight
To suck nectar of flowers and lichen to drink
Motherhood drives their dreams with instinct
When as larvae they devour our woolen knits
You can smother them with mothballs to reduce the risk
From caterpillar to flying towards the light
In the darkness they try to survive by flight
From birds spiders who hunt and kill them on sight
Then there’s the danger of artificial and firelight
Smothering the Moths ability to hide out of sight
And the chance to find a mate who is Mr. Right
Another story in the steps of Mother Nature’s plight
I travel around hoping for light Sometimes I get trapped while in flight I am weirdly attracted I do not know why It just happens whenever I fly
Except when it is the sun Which is on in the day If I head for it I often lose my way I get blown by the wind And downed by the flood I am pretty sure that I have little blood
So if you see me flapping around It is not really the flame That draws my aim I am navigating Using the moon and stars The heat or light may create a trail Whether I am male or female
Please do not harm me, when I am about Depending where I am, please let me in or out I will do my best not to eat your clothes And keep safe from all my foes
I feel that I am not as pretty as a butterfly Or as lazy as a sloth I am just me… A beautiful moth
You left us 11 years ago today It was sad watching you slip away I had so much more that I wanted to say
I held your hand and didn’t understand the point you wanted to make before you were induced no longer awake
Not long after you passed away I saw a moth in the corner It felt like it was your spirit paying me a visit
Since then, it’s come to be you often arrive at night when I turn on the light Even though you’re not a pretty sight it feels right to chat with you and ask for advice just as it was just because I love you…