The Butterfly's Day
Emily Dickinson 

From cocoon forth a butterfly
As lady from her door
Emerged - a summer afternoon -
Repairing everywhere,
Without design, that I could trace,
Except to stray abroad
On miscellaneous enterprise
The clovers understood.
Her pretty parasol was seen
Contracting in a field
Where men made hay, then struggling hard
With an opposing cloud,

Where parties, phantom as herself,
To Nowhere seemed to go
In purposeless circumference,
As 't were a tropic show.
And notwithstanding bee that worked,
And flower that zealous blew,
This audience of idleness
Disdained them, from the sky,
Till sundown crept, a steady tide,
And men that made the hay,
And afternoon, and butterfly,
Extinguished in its sea.

Neighbors
For all the borrowed cups of this and that,
For times when you've come over...just to chat,
For rakes and mowers loaned out for the day,
And all the chores performed while we're away,
For lending a hand With all my labor,
Making it easy to "Love thy neighbor".
For all of these things, A list without end,
I dub thee Neighbor Of the loyal order of  Friend.



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