To a Butterfly trapped in a Norfolk Church

  
Where were you last Christmas
hiding in the dust behind the altar  
underneath an oaken pew  
patched in darker brown, not oak  
like the patch on a poor man's coat  
proudly wrought ?  
The peace of God around you  
but trapped in loving kindness.  
Fading altar flowers no food for you  
 anxious glances to the door,  
the mesh obstructed door to keep out birds,  
which kept you in,had I not come.  
 
You let me take you from the sill  
filled my hand with joy  
bride-like walked with me along the aisle.  
I threw you to the sun and wind  
saw flowers tremble in delight  
shake their anthers, petals open wide  
‘Feed off me’ they cried.  
Who needed who the most?  
A winter fast complete, 
cold sweet charity stayed your appetite,  
but one fine day in May stirred your wings,  
warmed your heart and set your tummy gurgling.
 
I am so glad I called,  
I would not have prayed that day.  
there were no candles in the church  
but then I had no matches.  
You were my prayer.
I wished you well and all your brood,  
But never asked your name.