When you call me yours

When you call me yours

Butterflies poke out

of fresh cocoons

and spread their wings


And flutter

endlessly inside

doing somersaults

and kick puppa licks

and fancy boom flicks

from end to end of my being

Causing tiny little bumps

to appear on my skin

I’m simply


and blushing bright red

right through my melanin rich


harkening the conception

of a most wonderful thought

and fabulous idea

making my words

turn onomatopoeia

cause I feel so

mm mm good

knowing that you call me yours

Not in possession

though somewhat possessed

Owning up to feelings

So easily confessed

I am humbled by association

And filled with pride

Knowing I am called yours

When I stand by your side.

(c) 2010 L.  Ashwood

5 thoughts on “When you call me yours

  1. wow, I love thois poem, everyhting is nicely done from imagery (Butterflies poke out…..) to onomatopoeia, rhyming and the theme of course.well done!

  2. Its so simple and beautiful…like innocence…thats what it reminds me of, innocent love. great work sis.

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