Trust

by Deborah Jordan Bailey

Wednesday 25th March 2009 3:52 pm

Layer upon layer

of gold leaf and enamelled jewel dust

held weightless on paper wings.

Entangled in spiders’ webs,

I found their bodies folded,

vampired and hollow.

I unfolded the canvas

found their painted wings,

laid them on red velvet

inside a heart-shaped box.

Butterflies, soul-birds

probed into my heart,

uncoiling their threads of silvered wires

with gentle enforcement

asking me questions,

I have no answers to.

All is locked.

All is trapped.

Sleeping on red velvet

Inside a heart-shaped box.

The box lay unopened

within your warm hands.

You looked deep into my eyes,

held my gaze

and asked me questions

I found the answers to.

Vampired, hollowed

as I was.

Lifting the lid

you breathed so gently as

not to disturb

the sleeping butterflies,

fragile wings on

red velvet,

You said,“Oh wow.”

It was enough.

Deb R.J. May 08

Comments

Anthony Emmerson

Thu 26th Mar 2009 13:21

Hi Deborah,
There were several things I enjoyed about this piece - its superficial simplicity - hiding a deeper message, the use of "vampired" as a verb, and a nicely rounded ending. Good stuff.
Regards,
A.E.

<Deleted User> (5625)

Thu 26th Mar 2009 09:40

beautifully written Deborah: i'm an amateur
naturalist and i've often as a child, rescued
butterflies and bees from spiders webs!!

winston plowes

Thu 26th Mar 2009 00:42

Hi Deborah.. This is completely different. I also put (already) dead butterflies in little packets. If they are dead then I agree completely, extract what beauty you still can from them. Thanks for the explanation. Winston

Deborah Jordan Bailey

Thu 26th Mar 2009 00:08

Hi Winston, I know, a box containing something dead seems macabre. however, I often find butterflies in one of my sheds, which have tried to escape but become trapped in cobwebs. I try to rescue them but often it is too late. I couldn't help myself and wanted to see the beauty of their wings and preserve them in a little tin. There was still so much life in the colours even though their little bodied were hollow. The silver wires are their proboscises, probosci or whatever, i imagined probing my mind instead of a flower. I love butterflies and I wanted to appreciate the beauty of their wings before they faded. Deb.

Tim Ellis

Wed 25th Mar 2009 22:27

I like this a lot. It has atmosphere and a sense of mystery.

winston plowes

Wed 25th Mar 2009 20:47

Had mixed feelings after reading this.. A subject (Butterflies and Moths) that absords a lot of my time. They are remarkable insects and yet for me I would not relish opening your box of dead beauty. I spend a lot of time trying to capture this beauty on film and may be having another exhibition in Hebden again soon. Don't get me wrong though Deborah, I do like the words of your poem and I guess the end could be interpreted either way... "Oh Wow" would say enough for me too. Butterflies are a difficult subject to tackle without cliches...what are these threads of silvered wires? Winston

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