28 September – House guest

A butterfly in the house is a strangely magical thing,
like a fairy painting over ordinary with whimsical wings.
All that fluttering motion against the stasis of four walls
whispers to the freedom deep within that eagerly calls
back to childhood, to wonder, and to lingering play,
to chasing fleeting colours on bright Summers’ days.
I seek to guide them out, though their leaving is loss,
but today’s snoozy Tortoiseshell won’t accept me as boss.
It’s determined to move in for winter’s full duration,
folding up its wings to suspend in hibernation.
We’ve coaxed it from the stairs and the shelves in the hall
but it won’t budge from the conservatory roof at all.
No matter, now it’s safe, it’s very welcome to stay
where the heating can’t confuse it that it might be May.
It’s a very special guest I’m delighted we can keep –
a still-winged sprite taking an enchanted beauty sleep.