Butterfly Lullaby - A Musical Poem
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Buy the melody at my website shop http://www.robinmayhew.co.uk/pages/rm... along with some rare recording made when I worked as sound engineer with David Bowie and Lou Reed in the 1970s My album Shallow and Deeper will hopefully by finished along with my book in early 2016
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Poem Below
A musical poem to highlight the British Butterflies and Moths and drawing attention to the decline and even loss of some varieties.
Words spoken by Jack Elliott from St Phillips Catholic High School, Barnham, West Sussex England.
Words by John Catanach with Music and Production by Robin Mayhew
Thanks to Paula McGovern at St Phillip Howard's Catholic High School in Barnham West Sussex for recommending Jack Elliott to read the words.
The Numquam Infidi Production is used because NI was the motto at Sutton High School for Boys where John and I went to school back in the 1950s. The Latin translates to Never Never - in other words one always sees the job through to the end. I only met up again with John through a school reunion a couple of years ago in 2010 and he told me about his hobby writing poems. Amazing how things work out.
Remember the Butterflies (The Last Butterfly 4)
Final Title with music - 'Butterfly Lullaby' (EJNW-210313-0087-00)
(Spoken softly)
No more shall we see the Purple Shot Copper and Southern Festoon
No Ringlets or Lappets, no Speckled Wood too.
No flash in the sunlight no tap-tap on the glass
No Shark, no Mullein, no Burnished Brass.
No dawdling in fields for Angle Shades,
No searching the nettles for Graylings and Commas ‘til the light fades.
No spread wings on a flower like we once saw
No Coxcomb Prominent not any more.
.
By the stream on the heath, on the gorse by the fell
No Peacock, no Ringlet no Yellow Shell.
Farewell Red Admiral, goodbye Black Veined White.
Never again to watch their flight.
Brindled Beauty, Scarce Swallow Tail, Lulworth Skipper and Tortoiseshell.
No glorious wings, no delicate sheen where they once flew.
No Safflower Skipper, no Clouded Yellow no Chalkhill Blue.
No blush in the meadow to welcome the spring
No Chimney Sweeper no Red Underwing,
Can this be goodbye
To the sweet butterfly
The sweet butterfly
That we all once knew.?