In the middle of our porridge plates
There was a blue butterfly painted
And each morning we tried who should reach the
butterfly first.
Then the Grandmother said: 'Do not eat the poor
butterfly.'
That made us laugh.
Always she said it and always it started us laughing.
It seemed such a sweet little joke.
I was certain that one fine morning
The butterfly would fly out of our plates,
Laughing the teeniest laugh in the world,
And perch on the Grandmother's lap.
Ha, ha, ha...! Nice technique of grand mother makes children take food fast! She lives forever indeed through this poem!
Loved this poem about the butterfly. I love butterflies. Check out my poem BUTTERFLY OF DEATH.
We learn from this Poem that for our own happiness no one should bother inadvertently even if it .
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another adorable poem by Ms. Mansfield. Loved it! A '10! ' I'm not going to tell her to keep writing as I've noticed some have, since she died in 1923! : 0) Marilyn