Butterfly People
Previously published on the Brian Moses Blog Spot
Some people are people people; other people are butterfly people.
You can recognise them by how they travel: as an actress delighting audiences, sweeping costumedly across the stage; perfumed as a perfumer at the opening of a new boutique; swirling as a wearer of a ruffled, bright skirt.
You can recognise them by the way they look: face painted with flowers, as if at a summertime seaside fete. Expressive expressions, as a writer animatedly gathering an environment of ideas. Immaculately fashioned, as a perfect mirror reflection of dots and lines.
You can recognise them by the way they talk: liquid, rhythmic, and reassuring as light spring rainfall. Reassuring, as a repeated chorus of a rhyme where you know what is coming. Animated, as a retelling of a story performed before an audience.
You can recognise them by the way they look at you: helpful as a tour guide, understanding as a true listener, promising as a flower bulb of potential.
You can recognise them by what they talk about: kaleidoscopic colours for a playground, where the best seat is for a breather and rest stop, the best place to save a banner of celebrations, declaring that happiness is here.
Yes, some people are butterfly people. But I am not. I am a spider person.
Let me praise their seemingly delicate web, and tell you about their fibre artistry.
You can recognise them by how they travel: as an actress delighting audiences, sweeping costumedly across the stage; perfumed as a perfumer at the opening of a new boutique; swirling as a wearer of a ruffled, bright skirt.
You can recognise them by the way they look: face painted with flowers, as if at a summertime seaside fete. Expressive expressions, as a writer animatedly gathering an environment of ideas. Immaculately fashioned, as a perfect mirror reflection of dots and lines.
You can recognise them by the way they talk: liquid, rhythmic, and reassuring as light spring rainfall. Reassuring, as a repeated chorus of a rhyme where you know what is coming. Animated, as a retelling of a story performed before an audience.
You can recognise them by the way they look at you: helpful as a tour guide, understanding as a true listener, promising as a flower bulb of potential.
You can recognise them by what they talk about: kaleidoscopic colours for a playground, where the best seat is for a breather and rest stop, the best place to save a banner of celebrations, declaring that happiness is here.
Yes, some people are butterfly people. But I am not. I am a spider person.
Let me praise their seemingly delicate web, and tell you about their fibre artistry.
This poem is copyright (©) Kay Medway 2026
About the Writer
Kay Medway
Kay Medway is a library assistant and writes poetry, with work published in The Dirigible Balloon, Disabled Tales, and Scaryness Express. She loves day trips, which have inspired much of her writing, and enjoys reading and learning at every opportunity.
