Click for music to go with this post..


                                    Butterfly Laughter

  In the middle of our porridge plate..There was a blue butterfly painted
 And each morning we tried who should reach the butterfly first.
 Then  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  Grandmother's lap.

To my grandmother..
[poem by Katherine Mansfield]


Susan said...

What a beautiful remembrance~

Jeanne said...

I love butterflies and thank you for all you share.
Love Jeanne♥

Castles Crowns and Cottages said...

Where was I today that I missed this most astounding post? OH YES...I know...I was outside ALL DAY LONG in the garden with my beloved. We pruned the trees, mowed the grass, watered the flowers, watched the birds, and last of all, watched the butterflies that have finally come back home.

We had not seen many butterflies in our area for years due to a lack of the right type of flowers. People have been deliberately planting the right flowers, in fact they've been planting "butterfly gardens" and "bee-happy" gardens. We are now enjoying their presence.

Dearest one, this is a most uplifting post for I think of those people who came and went as magical but as swiftly as a butterfly. Enjoy your sleep as I now look outside my window at my "moon" garden. I have a vine of moon flowers that ONLY OPEN AT NIGHT - they are white disks as white and round as the moon.


Angelsdoor * Penny said...

Oh Dutchess,
What a beautiful remembrance of your dear grandmother.. Such a sweet story.
I love the music, it is very emotional.. Pulls at my heart.
Thank you dear friend for sharing.
love and blessings,
p.s. Good morning Anita dear!

^.^ said...

... smiles and tears ... so beautifully said ... i never got to meet my grandmother, she died 10 years before i was born ... she died in some labour camp, i was born in some refugee camp ... guess we have something in common ... somehow ... smiles ...