Tag Archives: poetry

Frequent Visitor

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The robins were singing vespers in the high tree-tops, filling the golden air with their jubilant voices. ~L. M. Montgomery, Canadian author, Anne of the Island, 1915

An inquisitive
Bird sitting in a tree
Can sometimes seem
Dreamily calm
Even as it’s obviously
Fraught with tension
Giving an observer
Half a chance to wonder
If it is even thinking at all.
Just so, the bird and I are
Kindred spirits
Loving the outdoors
Making music at will
Noticing whatever moves
Oh, how wonderful it must be
Perhaps for a day or more
Quietly flitting from tree to tree
Round about the yard
Settling high in the branches
Taking notice and being noticed
Under the bright sunshine
Volume turned up
With eyes wide open
X-ray vision
You can’t help but admire
Zealous living.

Note: Poetry form is A-B-C Poem.

Happy Birthday, Monkey!

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I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see. ~John Burroughs, American naturalist and nature essayist

Today is my birthday — I’m finally four!
Too late for Mama to show me the door!
I’ve barfed and I’ve pottied all over her floor,
But one thing’s for certain: I’m never a bore!

Today’s my birthday — it’s all about ME!
I’m just as happy as happy can be.
Cats and squirrels, you’d better all flee;
Guarding and chasing are fun for Monkey!

Today’s my birthday — let’s celebrate!
You bring yourselves; I’ll host the fete.
Cake, ice cream, cookies on a plate;
Only the best, nothing third-rate.

Today’s my birthday — oh, happy day!
I’m ready to party; I’m ready to bay.
I can’t promise anything but skies of gray;
Still, come to my party and be ready to play!

Note: Poetry form (I think) is quatrains. Could be rhyming couplets though.

Cat-Watching

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The dog may be wonderful prose, but only the cat is poetry. ~French proverb

Like a cat
I sometimes
Curl up in
A sunny
South-facing
window and
Nap or read
(Sometimes both!)

I find it
Soothes me and
Readies me
To face the
Remainder
Of my day.

How about
You? Are you
A window
Napper, too?
Or maybe
Only a
Cat-Watcher?

Blogging Break Time

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Most of us, in all conditions, are weighted down with superfluities or worried to acquire them. ~Charles Dudley Warner, American essayist and novelist

Can’t you see yourself
Curled up on this seat?
Nestled ‘neath the trees
Away from the noisy street?

Can’t you feel the wind
Gently caressing your face?
Playing with your hair?
Slowing your hectic pace?

Can’t you hear the quiet
As peace envelopes you,
Casts aside your burdens,
Bestows a calmer view?

Our lives are often fraught
With too much activity.
Time to take a needed break,
Nurture my creativity.

Note: Happy Labor Day! I’m taking a short break and will be back soon.

Lesson Learned

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A house was not a home without animals. ~Abby Geni, The Wildlands, 2018

My neighbor got a flock of ducks;
Six, to be exact.
Two were white and four, brown.
I confess, I was gobsmacked.

Every day as the clock chimed three,
The ducks emerged outside.
Where they lived the rest of the time
I never learned (though I tried).

They picked and scratched at stuff on the ground;
They stretched their necks and wings.
Where was their water, I often wondered;
How did they know these things?

One day they ventured into my front yard,
And Monkey had a fit.
They couldn’t know he’s a herding dog,
Bred to chase a bit.

But Monk could only watch them strut —
His back yard is entirely fenced.
And one day, to my complete surprise,
A truck pulled up and commenced…

To load the pretty ducks all up
And carry them away.
Sold, or given, to a nearby farm
Where they’ll have room to play.

The truth is, my neighbor confessed,
Ducks make a lot of poop.
And having to clean his yard every day
Was worse than banishing the group!

Note: The best I can tell, this poetry form is in common meter — alternating iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter.

The Sky

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A pessimist sees only the dark side of the clouds, and mopes; a philosopher sees both sides, and shrugs; an optimist doesn’t see the clouds at all — he’s walking on them. ~Leonard Louis Levinson, author

Always hanging over us
Breath-taking views
Cloudy occasionally
Downpours, too.

Ever changing appearance
Foggy mornings with dew
Generously providing
Healing for our moods.

I often glance upward
Just to see the skies
Kind of a pasttime
Looking at the sunrise.

My search is rewarded
Now with this scene
Of sunlight diffused
Prisms that gleam.

Queer the fuss we make over
Retrograding Mercury and
Sporadic solar eclipses
That prompt us all to look

Upward until
Voilà!
We realize that once again
Xtremes of nature

Yell loudly while the commonplace
Zips along unnoticed.

 

Note: This is a poetic form known as the A-B-C Poem. First one I’ve ever tried, and it was harder than I expected!

NOW it’s Spring

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A weed is a plant that has mastered every survival skill except for learning how to grow in rows.  ~Doug Larson, American journalist

There once was a wee Dandelion
Who said, “‘Tis true, I’m not lyin’.
Don’t call me a weed,
I’m precious indeed.
Who else can thrive without tryin’?”

Jawbreaker Sky

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pink_sky

Spend time looking up.
Nature changes clothes often.
If you say you’re too
Busy to see pinks, golds, greys,
You’re just too busy indeed!

Note: Jawbreakers, or Gobstoppers to my friends in the United Kingdom, are pieces of hard candy that dissolve into different colors the longer they’re sucked. Far too hard to bite into, they’ve been a children’s favorite for decades.

Form: This is my first Tanka. The photo is one I took near sunset recently.

On Blooming…and Planting

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star_grass

Every year you appear as if by magic.
No one planted you, no one tends you.
Still, there you are, your star-shaped petals
Of saffron outlined in purest of snow
Reflecting the radiance of the sun itself,
While an explosion of spiky, hairy leaves
Sprouts from earth lending its encouragement.

So, too, some humans who never stray
Far from womb or hearth while others brave
New environments and untried experiences.
Bloom where you’re planted, or stray afar?
Both have their appeal, so long as you bloom
Wholeheartedly, for as long as you can,
Wherever you find yourself planted.

Note: These dainty perennial wildflowers are known as Yellow Star Grass, part of the Lily family, and are native to nearly every county in Illinois.

Flower? Or Weed?

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Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but at the right time God awakened us, and here we are to comfort you. ~Edward Payson Rod, American Congregational preacher

wild_violets

Some would call wild violets pretty
With their heart-shaped, waxy leaves
And their delicate purple-hued blossoms.
Others insist they’re nothing
But a weed, a nuisance, a pest
That screams for chemical intervention
Or a shovel for permanent removal.

But isn’t it really all in the viewpoint?

Those who see this plant’s beauty must be
Optimists, searching for the good in all
And seeking, often find exactly that.
Those proclaiming it a worthless annoyance
Just might have scales covering their eyes.
They view the world in opaque tones and expect
Perfection that’s never attainable on earth.

Isn’t it really all in the viewpoint?

Maybe at times we’re all like wild violets.
We portray ourselves in the best possible light
And hope, by persistence, to live long enough to matter.
When others point out our flaws and proclaim us a bother,
We wither and sink into shadowy oblivion.
Shouldn’t we, like the violets, thrive despite obstacles?
Rail against the naysayers and their name-calling?

Isn’t it really all in the viewpoint?

Note: Wild Violets, like those pictured above, can be a homeowner’s bane if allowed to grow and spread indiscriminately. Removal can be challenging, especially for those unwilling to apply chemicals. But for the determined, there are organic methods available. Do you consider wild violets to be beauty or beast?