Chasing Butterflies (poem) by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie on AuthorsDen

Reviewed by William Bonilla

Reviewed on April 23, 2004

AN ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL WRITE
ENJOYED MUCH

WILLIAM

Reviewed by andrea coltman

Reviewed on April 23, 2004

Beautiful...just beautiful...love the picture too....best wishes Andrea

Reviewed by Bhuwan Thapaliya

Reviewed on April 23, 2004

wow...this is write of the day...superb!!!!!

Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)

Reviewed on April 23, 2004

Heart touching and beautifully written!

Reviewed by Erin Kelly-Moen

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

Your writes seem always to be tinged with such sadness, Retta... They rear the reader in half with their remembered lovely images shadowed by eventual disfiguring reality. Your butterfly wings are your words, Retta, perhaps changing a life with a faint flap or your wing as you help purge the caterpillar poisons from yourself. :) One spring, you will be soaring on those wings, and realize with a gasp of delight, that you are truly free.

Reviewed by E T Waldron

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

Glorious remembrances Reindeer! So glad I didn't miss this gem!;-)

Reviewed by Ron (sketchman) Axelson (Reader)

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

oh the memories?
You make spring sound wonderful.....

Reviewed by Sandra Corona

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

Breathtaking verse and picture :)!
:)Sandy

Reviewed by Rebekah Rosie Lang

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

Heartfelt write full of love and
sentiments. A little sorrowful too.
Thanks for reviews!

Reviewed by * ashura (Reader)

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

I must tell you, Retta, at the age of 51 my fave thing to do in spring and summer time is to sit in my garden and watch nature do what it does. I love the sounds of bees and hoverflies and grasshoppers and to watch butterflies riding the breezes. My cat, who has very little brain but is my master and my keeper, insists on chasing them and making great leaps into the air to try to catch them. Once or twice landing in the pond in his attempt. Of course I laugh uncontrollably as her heaves himself out of the water with blanket weed draped over his nose and seeks a warm spot to dry off and nurse his deflated ego. I adore spring and summer, fresh herbs and tomatoes from the greenhouse. Do I miss anything? Yes! Innocence! Would I want it back? Yes please! Saturdays from midday to about 7.00PM. 7 hours of innocent summer bliss would be such a gift again.

Thanks for the memory, Retta. Can we do skinny-dipping next, please. I have such fond memories of that too, before we were told it 'wasn't nice'. Sigh!!!

michael

Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

One thing about adulthood is we finally gain control. No more parents to bother us. Along with great power comes great responsibility. Some people get grown and don't want to be responsible. I love being grown, I can be an adult or let my little boy out of the cage. Man do we have a good time. Anyway I hate what old age does to the body. The little boy wants to run and jump but the old body says, nope we can't do too much of that anymore. Blawwwwwww! great piece, got me to thinking and inking. l&p g

Reviewed by Debashish Haar (Reader)

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

FANTABULOUS writing, Rein!

Reviewed by Zenith Elliott

Reviewed on April 22, 2004

This is a lovely poem, it brings back happy, carefree, welcome memories! ~Z~

Reviewed by Franz Kessler

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Wonderfully remembered bittersweat childhood images. It is childhood, where life and humanity reside. I loved this! Franz

Reviewed by Larry Rochelle

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Recapturing the past, we release our private memories, thinking they all will come true, their beauty shing all around us. Nicely done!

Reviewed by Anna Marie Fritz (Reader)

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

This touched me in a sweet, soft corner of my heart!

Reviewed by Sheila Jones (Reader)

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Such a lovely picture, and your poetry is absolutely gorgeous!
So beautifully written, Reindeer!

Love, Sheila

Reviewed by Mr. Ed

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

This is a fabulous poem, Reindeer. Truly enjoyed it!

Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

(((reindeer)))

i used to LOVE chasing butterflies...o, you brought back pleasant memories of being a little girl...thank you for the brain jog :)

charming, beautiful write--thank you for sharing

((((HUGS)))) and love, karla. :)

Reviewed by Mark Mahoney (Reader)

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Lovely sentiments Reindeer, a very warm nostalgic write so well written, take good care...Mark x

Reviewed by Floria Kelderhouse (Reader)

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Oh to stay a child forever and be happy...
love this Reindeer...floria

Reviewed by Mary Quire

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Oh! This is so beautiful! It brought tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat. Thanks for the feelings...

M.Rose

Reviewed by George Carroll

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Marvelous write

Reviewed by Dawn Richerson

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Beautiful. Oh that everyone had learned that lesson and would not try to put beauty or genius in a jar! Great art to go with this... like everybody else, I was there! Dawn

Reviewed by Christine Morell

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

This brings back so many memories for me. Beautiful!
~Chrissie

Reviewed by Eddie Thompson

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

wonderfully done...it brings me back.

Reviewed by Sanil nath (Reader)

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Reindeer , This is excellent and superb ... Went to my childhood where we all kids went behind the lovely butterflies running and running and sometimes fall hiting some stones and cry looking at mothers ... They realise the reality of our cry and we have to realise we didnt cry for the falling down but we cry of missing the butterflies ... Lovely memories of childhood ...

Thanks for charing ... Keep it up ...

Regards
Sanilnath G

Reviewed by Dale Clark

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

OH this is so beautiful! Just wonderful
sentiments and so true. I remember chasing
those butterflies.

Reviewed by E. Richardson

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

good work here...brought back many memories. For a brief while, I kept an insect collection but like you state in the poem, I quickly discovered that it was just not right.
Now, I still collect, but I collect memories and put them into words...nothing dies and the memories are always fresh.

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)

Reviewed on April 21, 2004

Lovely poem. The missing, it never quite goes away, does it.