Monday, 22 August 2011

Trapped Butterfly

Trembling behind gauze, like a trapped butterfly
Listening to the scrunch of rubber on gravel.
He’s home.
A door slams as headlights fade.
How can a lover become a stranger,
As swiftly as a once polished plum
Becomes covered in a delicate froth of fungi?
Turn back the clock to those heady fruitful days
When love blossomed.
Shared dreams divided by time
And split like parched wood.
His footfall, once a welcoming tread,
Now splinter my calm with regret
As he strides on the polished parquet.
Turn back the clock to a time when our words tumbled
like a rushing brook in a spring thaw.
Before the wordless air ambushed me,
Squeezing my breath at his glance.
A look which once glowed with love,
Now glowers.
Loving praise decayed into mute criticism.
A curl of his lip.
Turn back the clock to a time when the sun shone
On entwined fingers, and a passionate embrace.
His kiss, once lingering and heartfelt is but a memory,
Bleached pale by time’s incessant race.
“Goodnights” unspoken.
An extinguished bulb
Signals the end of his day.

Angela Barton


  1. Wow, thank you so much Marisa. xx

  2. Beautifully written Ange. I love 'wordless air ambushed me' I love so much of it.

  3. What a powerful image of dying love, Ange. So sad, yet with such lovely lines.

  4. Thank you Avril and Rosemary. You are both wonderful support for a struggling writer! I appreciate your encouragement. xx

  5. Some clever stuff in there. I like the use of 'glowed' and 'glowers'. See you in two weeks.

  6. Hi Ange - just saw your new blog address (nice title)! I replied to your comment on The Writers Vineyard, as that wasn't my post - I only blog there once a month, as do the other Champagne Books authors!

    But I do give talks to writing groups and was at a large Glasgow networking event the other evening talking about being published by Canadian publishers in e-book, then print.

  7. I'm sorry if I'm repeating myself, my first comment wouldn't post! This beautifully written poem reminded me of when I got divorced. We remained friends and are in touch with each other regularly but your poignant words did bring back those bittersweet memories.

    CJ xx

  8. goodnights unspoken my favourite line
    (lovely shiny new blog, Ange!)

  9. Hi Kathryn. I'm pleased that my poem meant something to you, but sad it was an unhappy memory for you. Thank you for sharing that with me. xx

    Thank you Megan. Very kind of you to say so! xx