Her first love,
he gave her a butterfly,
a beautiful, iridescent thing
stuck in a jam jar
Her second love,
he took away the butterfly,
sold it for a nickel,
and left her a fist in the face
Her third love,
he gave her many butterflies
etched in pretty coloured ink,
they lived free on her backside.
©
Jacqueline
a cooking pot and twisted tales 
Nice tattoos.
I might get those to celebrate my retirement next month.
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Me too. I am seriously thinking of getting one when I turn 50 and I think it would be a butterfly 🙂
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I have about 9 or 10. They are expensive so I haven’t gotten one recently but since retirement is a special occasion I will commemorate my freedom from the rat race.
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Retirement is certainly worth a memento.
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Definitely go for it…it’ll soon be adding another dragonfly to my already 6 😊
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I sure will 🙂
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This is a fascinating poem with more than a twist in it! Very neat.
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Thank you Roger. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
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Her fourth love left her butterflies in the stomach every time he touched her.
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Hmm. I think I will just add this sweet stanza 🙂
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Intriguing and humorous poem.
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Thank you. I hope it made you smile 😉
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It made me laugh more than smile.
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Profound and beautifully written.
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You inspired me 🙂
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Great.
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