My heart’s a brimstone butterfly



My heart is a brimstone butterfly

That’s born a day to marry on the moor;

It hasn’t learned enough to utter, Why,

It nothing knows of Then and Evermore.


My mind’s a frighted moth under the lights

And stains its every motion with a spore.

Its dust beneath the lamplight drifts at nights.

Its only heart’s concern is Evermore.


Both flutter, fleetingly, and so they never

Fly together, though the same’s what both are for:

Between them love is lost among the heather

And under lamplights, flightless evermore.



Inspired by the sheer brilliance of Wuthering Heights and the more intellectual, urban feel of Prufrock, this sonnet-to-the-self is yet another poem dredged up from the back-catalogue. The dichotomy between heart and mind, between delight and caution, is a crucial theme which is reflected both in the symbolism of butterfly-or-moth, and moor-or-town. As ever, alliteration and internal rhyme for the win. One day I might set up a competition to find all of the internal rhyming patterns in one of my poems. Winner gets a bottle of bubbly and my eternal respect. 


2 thoughts on “My heart’s a brimstone butterfly

  1. Dear James This is a very lovely poem, bitter sweet, sad, also lost, like Wuthering Heights and gay with echoes of Christina Rossetti. I sound like a recipe? The sound of this poem is absolutely, totally and, I imagine, everlastingly, musically, lovely. Sounds like a song. I love it. Love from Gran

    Sent from my iPad

    • Thanks – absolutely chuffed at the comparison to Rossetti. There is a fairly strong, determined rhythm to the thing, which really does drive it forward: it is a sonnet, a little song, for its own sake. Love the feedback you give, so glad you’re following my scribblings! Loads and loads of love to yer.

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