The butterfly greeted the caterpillar, “Come let us fly”, warily the caterpillar replied, “Alas, I cannot fly, for I am a caterpillar”. “Hast a caterpillar wings”? The butterfly mocked. ”Of a truth you are no longer a caterpillar, but rather a butterfly. Come, let us fly…”
The Layde Scarlett – A poem by Sir Peter James dotcom
Scarlet, fairest of all maidens, that I perchance have set eyes upon. Within whose breasts beats a heart of care and tenderness
Whose warm eyes have called out the cold sorrow from within my heart, to an embrace so inviting, that my fears were pulled from the flames of anger burning within me. Fears who knew their berthing in my innermost, since I were in my mother’s womb. Drawing my heart to a place of calm waters and shady trees. Where my soul was stilled and my heart filled with peace and joy; a place where sorrows’ no longer reign.