To A ButterflyBy William Wordsworth
I've watched you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!---not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again !
This plot of orchard-ground is ours;
My trees they are, my Sister's flowers;
Here rest your wing when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.
It was really nice out on Thursday, sunny and not too hot, so it was just as well I had chores that had to be done out of the house, because it gave me an excuse to spend two hours walking in the park. The in-house chores are hopeless this week but hopefully tomorrow the repairs will be conclusively FINISHED, as they are supposed to be, and then I can spend five days putting our sons' rooms back together before the younger one graduates and the older one arrives for a visit.
You may have noticed that I'm not talking about politics: that's because all I can do is scream, and my focused energy has gone to writing letters to people who can actually do things. None of you need me to post a meme to know my position on reproductive rights! We watched the finale of The Big Bang Theory
, which was sweet, then we caught up on Gentleman Jack
, which was great, and Billions
, which was mean. Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens butterflies: