The Monarchs are Endangered

 I read online that the western monarch butterflies are at risk of extinction. The following snippet was posted on Google two days ago: "Its population has dropped by an estimated 99.9 percent over the past 40 years, from ten million in the 1980s to 1,914 in 2021. Experts are concerned that not enough butterflies remain to keep the population alive."

I wrote the following poem in the early 1990s...

Image credit: wired.com

 There Used To Be Butterflies in New Jersey

 

I remember the day the monarchs held court on Cupsaw Beach

And filled the air with tangerine profusion

As they soared and danced with natural choreography.

 

There used to be butterflies in New Jersey.

They haven’t left completely,

But I see fewer every year

And miss their lilting frivolity, color, and grace.

 

Today, I strolled a lane in South Carolina,

And was gifted with more species than I know,

The sum greater than I’ve seen in years.

Praise God, they simply filled my heart with joy

As they danced with gay abandon among the wildflowers.

They flitted against the sky with petal-soft wings

As resplendent in hew as the blooms

They landed momentarily upon, then sprang

Into fanciful Fantasia pirouettes.

 

Maude Carolan

Books of poetry by Maude Carolan Pych...

For information:

www.maudecarolanpych.net

 

Summertime Blessings...

A blessing of this stay-at-home summer has been hours spent at New Jersey lake and seaside beaches and at the Totowa Pool until it was flooded in the August 11 torrential rainstorm and closed early. Another blessing has been sitting by my spectacular sunflower garden. Last summer I only had a few sunflowers, but the Monarch butterflies flocked to them. This summer the bees have been plentiful, but I've only seen one Monarch. That reminds me of one of my earliest poems, which I'll share with you now...

Photo credit: wired.com

There Used To Be Butterflies in New Jersey

I remember the day the monarchs held court on Cupsaw Beach

And filled the air with tangerine profusion

As they soared and danced with natural choreography.

There used to be butterflies in New Jersey.

They haven’t left completely,

But I see fewer every year

And miss their lilting frivolity, color, and grace.

Today, I strolled a lane in South Carolina,

And was gifted with more species than I know,

The sum greater than I’ve seen in years.

Praise God, they simply filled my heart with joy

As they danced with gay abandon among the wildflowers.

They flitted against the sky with petal-soft wings

As resplendent in hew as the blooms

They landed momentarily upon, then sprang

Into fanciful Fantasia pirouettes.

Maude Carolan

Maude in her garden

Missing the Monarchs...

Photo Credit: fineartamerica.com

Have you seen a monarch this summer? I haven't and I miss them. I read in "The Record" newspaper this week that the monarch butterfly population is dwindling greatly and that it's likely because weed killers are destroying the milkweed plants necessary for their survival. Environmentalists are planting milkweed in the hope of saving the butterflies and increasing their population again.

My poem, "There Used to be Butterflies in New Jersey" follows. It is one of my earliest poems, a true recollection of a day, probably around 1977, when hundreds of monarchs surprised us by suddenly appearing on Cupsaw Lake beach in Ringwood, NJ.

Let us hope we will see God's fanciful and beautiful winged creations fill the air with "tangerine profusion" again.

Photo Credit: wired.com

There Used To Be Butterflies in New Jersey

I remember the day the monarchs held court

on Cupsaw Beach

And filled the air with tangerine profusion

As they soared and danced

with natural choreography.

There used to be butterflies in New Jersey.

They haven’t left completely,

But I see fewer every year

And miss their lilting frivolity,

color and grace.

Today, I strolled a lane in South Carolina,

And was gifted with more species than I know,

The sum greater than I’ve seen in years.

Praise God,

they simply filled my heart with joy

As they danced with gay abandon

among the wildflowers.

They flitted against the sky with petal-soft wings

As resplendent in hew as the blooms

They landed momentarily upon, then sprang

Into fanciful Fantasia pirouettes.

Maude Carolan