Opus Poem by Steve Howard
Opus
The butterfly his opus writes,
on breezes passing by.
Yet as he writes he does forget,
the how, the when, and why.
A butterfly I'd love to be,
but the fates will not comply.
For I still remember how, and when.
At times I've just forgotten
why.
Friday, May 4, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: humorous
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poems By Stephen (Steve) Howard
Best Poems
Best Member Poems
Best Classical Poems
New Poems
New Poets
Best Member Poets
Best Classical Poets
Explore Poems
Explore Poets
Poem Of The Day
Love Poems
Baby Poems
Death Poems
Sad Poems
Birthday Poems
Wedding Poems
Nature Poems
Sorry Poems
Hero Poems
Poetry E-Books
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
9/18/2024 5:25:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Just the write poem for mee. Often, I am a butterfly but somtimes a Beeeeeee!
Thanks..The Amused...clever rhyme and play on words you did. I appreciate it.