Welcome To My Book - The Poems Of A Butterfly Geisha
My new book 'The Poems Of A Butterfly Geisha' was published in August 2024 - It took me about 8 months to write and is my 2nd book to be published.
These poems are an insight to my big, bright, pink, blue, green, yellow and red, Kew Gardens of an amazing imagination and you can colour them in if you like to read and be taken for a ride. 'The Father', 'The Sister', 'The Friend' and 'The Black Man's Virtue' are just a few of the beautiful poems that you and everyone can resonate with. My Oriental Express train of 'The Poems Of A Butterfly Geisha' will thunder you into another world with a rising horizon and new dawn. You will be totally anesthetized and dazed when you come round and realise you have a had a terrific banger of a holiday in Zanadu!!
Surf my new website, it will thrill you and you can fully immerse yourself in all things shimmering, beautiful and Geisha here!
Remember that you can read more from me in my first book to be published: 'Untie These Hands - The Princess Trilogy' and my 3rd book published, 'The Skylark - The Flight Of The Alauda Arvensis'
The Butterfly Geisha
The butterfly Geisha
The essence of her spirit
The lady love and dove of Adam and Eve
She dances with Eros and is entranced with his dashing anatomy
This Geisha is the mix of an Egyptian Cleopatra and the Mixtli Nahuatl
She has the Samouri intoxicated with her grace
Her lips the vibrant colour of vermillion coral
She kisses the gentle midsummer soyokaze
The butterfly Geisha is called the Lady
She is the highest prima donna
The epitome of the strings of the orchestra playing at Nashville, Honky Tonk Highway, Broadway
Her voice is like the aria of the angel that is Maria Callas, the doyen
The butterfly Geisha, she sighs
She flies on the harps of Gabriel in the empyrean skies
The sound of the humming bird floating and whispering to the skylark
The Geisha, she cries a tear,
The guardian of the heavens catches the pure drop and creates a river of Bernadette
The Crying Geisha The Butterfly Geisha
The Geisha With The Butterfly
She holds the luminous butterfly gently
So not to tear its wings
She carefully follows the flapping of the monarch and buoyant tinkling
Her ears open at the honey icing sound of the darling angel harking
The butterfly holds the child’s attention with anticipation
A painting of the wonder man Michelangelo’s Chapel Cistern
The bells of the church bong out and tremble when they ring
The Geisha is ecstatic when the butterfly flies back and dances inside and christens her mittens
She holds it so tight
The veins on its pinions glisten and flicker with Whitsun light
The springtime is here, the Geisha is blessed with the sister of the cherry blossom tree
The butterfly is the spark and enthusiasm of the dark, the day dawning and the epitome
She holds the dragonfly like it is a new born
The babe so tender, the star to follow that the Magi was called
The Geisha kisses the fairy as it escapes
She releases the wish of a decadent, rosy cheeked, sweet sixteen girl in a bright red riding hood cape
She holds the spirit of nature before it was spoiled
The little boy running in and out of the cornfield recklessly, treading on the mat of Lincoln grass
The butterfly on the pretty lead of the Geisha, floats and hovers above like a pattern on a fuchsia pink curtain voile
It hangs on the rail and frames the window in the edge of the hours of deepest Russian graphite
She holds the most beautiful multi-coloured damsel that glows brilliantly in a dense wooded forest
Alexander McQueen’s print is on a kimono that covers the shape eight body of the regal Geisha in all her elegance
The butterfly deafens and blinds in her spectacular form of a princess
She of the dainty, sugar cane molasses of the coconut that hangs in the Garden of Gethsemane
She holds the creature close to her chest
She hears the heartbeat of the animal of Noah’s test
The dovelike butterfly, interrupting the class, unexpectedly flying high across the vibrant walls filled with sketches
The infants coo with awe and their eyes filled with adoration, they try to catch her soul but the Geisha vanishes
She holds the aviary bird of love in her ruby locket
Under the bodice of her dress she feels it flutter
The Geisha smiles a secret beam, her lips taste of banana pudding, a British Bake Off winning gooey jam tart
Limbs of the giant firefly batter the circle of her arms; she has the mercy diamonds of the Ontario Mines of Victor
She holds it desperately
She with the telekinesis thoughts and feelings, she doesn’t want to set it free
Like her mother who cares and gazes at her so honestly
The ever so emotional Geisha with the ever infectious, jasmine scented butterfly