Midnight Butterfly

Okay, so this is my first foray into song writing, so no laughing, please.

Midnight Butterfly

Way up in the hills
Across the mountain creek
Stood a little house, honest and neat
Where ev’ry morning at five
She’d wait out on the porch.

She’d hear the engine purr
Pull her dressing gown real tight
Crane her pretty neck up to the chalky skies
And then she’d see him
Dip his wings from side to side.
The whole world captured in the aura of her smile.

While he was gone
She’d bake his favourite pie
Starch his cotton shirts, wash the dress that matched her eyes
Count down the minutes
‘Til he turned the house into their home.

When she’d hear the truck
She’d run barefoot to the door
He’d bring her violets from the mountain, wild and white and pure
Their throats the sun-gold promise
Of their blessed life.
She wore them like the garland of a springtime bride.

He turned their life into a lullaby
Said their love was drawn by horses ‘cross the velvet sky
And as he strummed his guitar, plucking magic from the night
She’d unfold against him like the wings
Of a midnight butterfly.

He’d eat her sun-warmed beans
Draw water from the pump
Pull her to her feet, out to the setting sun
To the orchard where the young trees
Swayed low in harmony.

They’d turn back when nighttime fell
Like a gentle ebon quill
Hear a nightingale song from a lonely whippoorwill
And a stream of silver stars,
Veined through the old birch trees.
They’d find home by following the breadcrumbs of their dreams.

He turned their life into a lullaby
Said their love was drawn by horses ‘cross the velvet sky
And as he strummed his guitar, plucking magic from the night
She’d unfold against him like the wings
Of a midnight butterfly.

That dawn there was no flight
No dipping of his wings
She gave birth to their child, a widow after just three Springs
His plane forever resting in
The hills of their honeymoon.

Now she takes their little girl
Up past the mountain creek
They pick the wild violets, white and pure and sweet
And they look down on their little house
Forever warmed by Papa’s smile.
Her whole world captured in the blessing of their child.

And she turns their life into a lullaby
Said their love was drawn by horses ‘cross the velvet sky
And as she strums his guitar, plucking magic from the night
Their daughter floats around her
Like a midnight butterfly.

Yes she turns their life into a lullaby
Said their love was drawn by horses ‘cross the velvet sky
Feels him help her strum the guitar and pluck magic from the night
While their daughter floats around them
Their midnight butterfly.

Words © Carly Dugmore 2015.

 

sunrise2