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Monarchs Are Worth Saving
I’m female in my prime and beauty ripe, iridescent with brilliant brightness I’m at my sexual peak, surely I will be one of the first taken. I am plucked from a densely packed branch filled with worried women desperate for a mate. Picked and carried by a male of equal beauty owning an air of experience and tremendous strength he carries me as I fall limp. He flies me to a brook where we drink deeply, the water tastes luxurious, my juices flow. The small stream lies below a cascade, the tiny waterfall makes a symphonic sound that magnetically adds to his supreme seductive power. His splendid strength supports me, he loves me, completely... I am penetrated fully, he enters my soul in a way I thought impossible. Entirely and immediately I fall in love with him, faithful forever; we couple twice and our mating is successful. He leaves me by the water where I thirstily drink using my proboscis, it tastes cool, clean, vibrant, alive, and delicious. Full of the many nutrients I need for I am urged and inexplicably driven to fly north. I don’t know where I’m going only that I must go far. I soar in the sun, my wings bright beyond words and beautiful beyond clichés; I fly whenever the sun is up for I am fasting, stopping only for the finest water. I manipulate the wind, whether with me or against me I fly north. Riding thermals and soaring for hundreds of hungry miles, on the fifteenth day I tire, my vibrant wings are weakened and faded, no longer erect. They mimic a ship’s torn sail but somehow still onward fly; in pain I cross into the United States and continue my tiresome trek. I am pregnant and hungry, starving really, but I press on. My yens are stronger, my water stops fewer, barely enough to keep me going, drive and desire my only fuel. The vegetation turns greener, teasing me the further I fly, my destination feels closer, despite not knowing where. Below I see it, tall green shoots beckon like Homer’s sirens, copious fields of Toxic Milkweed entice below, I am at journey’s end. My shimmering array is faded and I no longer attract, I am old. My wings are torn and cannot withstand nor manipulate wind, I am pale. Satisfied contentment beyond description surrounds me though, even as I lie dying, for my eggs rest under a protective Milkweed plant, the way evolution taught us. I battle to fly a short distance when the spring winds knock me off course, I fall to the ground wearing fulfillment’s smile, where I pass on. My eggs are alive however, in time an ugly, lone caterpillar will appear, after devouring what’s left of its own egg casing it begins chomping on the plant. Milkweed is loaded with nutrients and the worm grows plump. The plant is highly toxic; my worm will also become toxic as our predators know. Inexplicably it attaches itself under a safeguard, the sturdy Milkweed leaf, where it eventually metamorphosis’s, becoming another miraculous Monarch butterfly.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Ellen K Lewis On Date: 2012-04-18 23:41:12
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Mark this is one of your best!! I adore this! I wanted you to know I read it, even if cant crit! I know this was awhile back but would like to see this kind of stuff more often! oh and btw the monarch caterpillar is a beautiful, colorful thing worth searching through the milkweed for. :) ~smile!~ Ellen
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