~The Butterflies Dance~
(A Double Whitney)
The sun is
so warm and nice
there is cheer
spring has sprung
one more time and
winter so cold is now gone.
have returned and
and the roses
to my delight
Now I see butterflies dance.
Dorian Petersen Potter
The Book of Prophecy was open to a silent page.
Tis she thought of the biblical generation in forty stages.
Her heart she hears.
In this life that Ora lives, she has fought for wisdom to ensure longevity.
Salient she sits looking out in the sunflower fields.
The vented darkness encapsulated.
Her mind ponders on the spiritual world.
She was, she felt, as lost as Poe.
Her favorite Poet of long ago spoke through his writings to only Ora.
In the fields, stands the raven.
A bird of blackness and such beauty but yet a threat to her, she felt she was attached to a nonphysical existence.
Transcendental was the raven's head, as she perched on the mantle.
She takes her breath every time because this woman fears what this symbolizes.
Surcease, this woman would shout aloud.
No respect for me do you have at my house.
Such demeanor is not to be tolerated.
This woman strikes out at the raven.
The raven flipped her wings beguilingly with decorum of her wickedness.
The forty years has transgressed with the omen sent.
This woman was struck by the raven’s beak.
Mournful she lays with her memory defeated.
Tis morn came and she lays awaken.
Ora’s visitors found her in a pitiful state.
They prepared her chambers for her to rest.
Will she live to see the next forty years?
Of youthful existence, she was.
Of her age, she was not.
The raven figurative existence defined her knowledge.
Portent and foretoken, a scoff of hope is the raven augury.
She is epoch to her well-being.
May this story end?
PENNED ON SEPTEMBER 21, 2014!
White Peacock, Visual 2
embroidered silk plumage,
fashioned by fingertips of the
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest: Whispers of a Muse
A green-feathered, yellow head beauty,
that’s my prized pet parakeet, QuiQui.
Even when she’s often crabby and snappy,
she succeeds in making me extremely happy.
QuiQui loves dipping and diving into her bird bath,
and hanging from a perch in her cage, like an expert acrobat.
She also enjoys shaking water from her wet wings,
gazing impishly into her toy mirror wildly shrieking.
Relishing her seeds and red strawberry millet treats,
nonchalantly she ignores my sweet endearments and tweets.
But she shows off her long, elegant, tapered blue tail,
Sitting silently and contentedly unloading quite a poop trail.
And even though QuiQui never utters a single word,
I know she secretly loves me too, my little prima donna bird.
Where twilight songs search of beauty
like syllables broke apart
I count each step to find your heart
where velvet words resonate
and azure moonlight softly hangs
in brushed hues of melody..
Poet ~ Rick Parise
Contest ~ NIGHT CREATURES
Muse ~ Nightingale #5
Songs of the Nightingale
Joyous angelic arias,
raised in exuberant praise,
serenade and soothe restless souls;
moving matchless melodies,
nightingale’s mellifluous songs…
manifest Glory of God!
Black birds gather....early in the morning....scooping up sunshine and singing to announce a new day....
Wings flapping in rapid succession....like waves of splendor....enthusiasm galore!
Black birds gather...my heart flutters a new beat...a tempo like none other...like the shininess of soft piano keys...your passion to sing enlightens me
Oh how I wish I could sing at the first shards of sunlight....how I wish I could fly around from tree top to tree top ushering in the new opportunity
I will do my best to do the same thing right down here with my mug of hot coffee!
How I love the NEW DAY!
While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
Willie wagtail wakes the morning
With his song outside my room
He tells me that the day is dawning
And sings away all shades of gloom.
Lovely bird, back black and shiny
With his belly creamy white
He sits there on a roof so finely
Giving my Soul sweet delight
‘Morning’s here’ his song is singing
Every note so loud and clear
As his song to me is bringing
A feeling oh, so sweet and dear.
26 August 2013 @ 0657hrs.
Fifteen tiny swallows
Fifteen tiny swallows
All perched upon a fence
Oh what handsome fellows
But here, let me commence
To speak of all their beauty
These tiny little birds
All black and cream with a reddish throat
Oh how my heart they stirred
A lady walking with her dog
Disturbed these little guys
So from the fence these birds take wing
And head towards the skies
It seems that they are dancing
In the way they fly around
They always seem to fly in circles
And nearly touch the ground.
I walk around these wetlands
And wonder at it all
Everyday it’s something else
And it’s all so beautiful
Ducks and swallows, parrots too
And the beauty of the lake
I love to walk there most of all
At the coming of the daybreak.
16 August 2013 @ 1510hrs.
This Lake so beautiful.
The lake so very beautiful
Paints pictures in my mind
Ducks, Ibis, and Pelicans
And birds of every kind
Mix with the shades of many greens
And the clouds that ride the sky
All these things added together
Make me one happy guy
A Kookaburra in a tree
Gives out his ghostly laugh
Giving a sense of solitude
On the silent morns behalf.
And all around that lake there lies
Islands green and tiny
As morning sun shines on the lake
It looks so sheeny, shiny.
The other shore holds many homes
Their roofs of reddish brown
Appear to me like in a movie
Of a little lakeside town
White egrets wade in the water
Their world all harmony
As two black swans come floating by
With all their mystery.
A flock of seagulls fly above
There whiteness oh, so pure
As the sun shines down on them
I’m filled with such allure
Oh, all the beauty of this lake
Gives to me so much joy
And fills my mind with memories
That nothing could destroy.
I'm in the air again
always liked it that way
Some dream of beauty
but I get to see it everyday
Better than any pilot
with grace I can soar
My landings are amazing
on my scenic tour
I've seen many humans
they watch our flying "V"
Bet they'd give anything
if they could fly with me
We'd glide over mountains
cruise over the lake
Poop on people's cars
and not by mistake
Bird: Goose.. Call to the Quest, Travel
Contest: Andrea's "I'm A Bird!"
You're a little angel
whom always brings a warm smile
When sunshine flowers with a radiant glowing beam
carnations blossom fluttering petals kiss full of joy
happiness a rose crowning every single word
dances to your sweet melody
To hear your silent heartbeat within whispers echo
one blessing born filled with life flies grace shines
forever and always feels the warmth grow
Inside one's self a presence carried by you
on the sweetest soft gentle breeze
When the birds softly sing in the meadows
lifting lashes mirror reflections calming waters
Faith still holds inside beautiful paradise
our eternity embraced upon golden sands
within destiny's dream touched by your feathers
it's your heart and soul that has wings
LITANIES REHEARSING ADIEU
from May blooms,
ACTUAL FORM: Waltz Wave
***Sponsor Kim Merryman
Contest Name Shall We Waltz?
10:22 pm, June 13, 2015
Colours bounce in euphoric ecstasy
and another day is birthed, in melody,
as the dawn brings forth emerald reflection,
the sun playing on the looms of nature's glee
with the nightingale's whistle in a harmony.
Dull on it's perch,
determined in his search
for a jewel in creation's crown,
a partner for his song to emerge,
he prepares to lurch.
He spots her on a lake,
a white rose, a snowflake,
drifting on crystal serene,
a beautiful image to make,
her beauty in its surroundings partake.
This fragile goddess
with his best song he tries to caress
and the brooding bud,
a stunning glory ageless,
unfolds to his tune, guileless.
Yet when she tries,
her voice defies,
and he knows she will not sing.
A sudden sorrow in her eyes,
she bows her head and sighs.
But song, his voice like a lyre,
her beauty, her eyes of sapphire
make for a perfect match:
all creation they admire
together compensating for flaws like ice and fire.
Once upon a time I heard a rhyme
And this story was so sublime
I wish it was mine...
Abigail went to sleep every night
She'd grow a tail that felt just right
It wasn't scary, too long, or hairy
It was perfect for a princess fairy
This tail was pink with polka-dots
She'd use it to climb & swing a lot
The birds loved her up in the trees
They said Abby tell a story please
Oh, her stories were so much fun
The birds laughed till setting sun
Abby loved butterflies and flowers
In a tree she could paint for hours
And take pictures for photo books
Pics so good you had to twice look
She loved the trees and her pink tail
This day was really going quite well
Then Abby always climbs down...
As the happy birds gather around
A new bird saw this and asked why
Isn't it better to live up in the sky
That's her mother the others said
She loves Abby, tucks her in bed
Abby loves mom in a special way
Together they're magic I must say
Mommy will kiss Abby goodnight
And every morning things are right
You'll see, tomorrow it will be well
Abby will grow her pink spotted tail
Eat pineapple pizza and ice cream
Run to the yard to play in the green
And swing in the trees under the sun
Then be with mom as the day's done
Over the mountains
Sun shines in all its splendor
Beautiful trees stand out tall
Birds assemble there
Eagles soar right to the top
Wild flowers covers the ground
Blue mountains stand grand
Deers and bears roam all around
Eyes can't get enough nice scene
All trees seem to glow
You can feel God's loving touch
Breathe in enjoy all the view.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Summer Nights in the South
Green fireflies blink in the quiet of night
and our sleeping old dog heaves a sigh.
Dreaming, she sprints through a youthful blue sky
chasing delicate clouds, cotton-white.
A red-sunset tanager* colors the warm air
from a perch in the majestic oak limbs above
professing by lullaby, sincerely devoted love,
like some sublimely recited evening prayer.
I lay back and smile, through the leaves, at the moon
to the sound of crops rippling in the breeze
thinking how precious are nights such as these
when alone, with the Earth I commune.
*Summer Tanagers (Piranga rubra) are native to the southern U.S. but are not true tanagers. They are actually members of the cardinal family.
Submission for Contest: Nature Poems Only
Hosted by: Shadow Hamilton
A veil of smoke can tie a knot
Around each mote
I cannot mask the wind
Just like the mote cannot be tied and twinned
I am soaked in a dense haar
Blindly following the sound of the guitar
But in the day I have to face the dark
When you feel guilty and say ‘I lied’
Made efforts but cant stop the emotions of a misty-eyed
A glass covered with murk and steam
Give it heat, it will fly away flapping its invisible wings
Give it an ice rind, it will make the glass its domain in-situ
Like a diamond precious ring
This world is full of illusions
Every real thing is a fusion
Try to rub the haze of life
It will show you the existence of soul in your eyes
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
There lived two pals in London Town
Who just hung out and roamed around
They called each other Tess and Boo
And folk said "what's it coming too
You cats and dogs are supposed to fight
And with each other get uptight"
The pair said "well we do know that
But we're not the normal dog and cat".
They were walking through the streets one day
When they saw this bird all pink and gray
The bird said "hullo both of you"
To the cat named Tess and the dog named Boo
As he looked them slowly up and down
And his face took on a puzzled frown
He said "now dogs and cat's they fight
And carry on and get uptight".
And so they told him how it was
They said "We don't fight because
We listen to our hearts do, we
Which keeps our minds all lose and free"
They Said "Now won't you join us bird
We'll be your friend you have our word"
And so the two became the three
And they were such good company.
Socrares Dec 2 2003.
trust yourself !
and don't fall down
and you will be happy
and be yourself
and be happy who you are
and you will grow wings and fly
fly to your dream
of something big
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell then came the ice, this went on for months.
The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.
They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves. Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday.
as they were called WEEDS ..
The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.
However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .
The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB
Very early Fall morning…crisp and clear.
Sitting on the patio, sipping hot coffee.
Only my path to and from the bird feeders,
Rain gutters hung on the stockade fence,
Has disturbed the beautiful, glistening dew
Blanketing a lush, green Bermuda lawn
Awaiting the season’s final mow and a Winter sleep.
Early morning sunsmile creates a mist, a little fog,
That artists have great difficulty recreating.
And the sprinklers are making music too….
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH
As I filled those bird feeders,
Only the patient cooing of white wing dove
Waiting in the surrounding trees
Could barely be heard above the sprinkler.
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH
Feeders filled, I walked away.
The air erupted with bird song.
Our giant privets were alive with hungry sparrows,
Each announcing breakfast.
All the locals seemed to understand.
The robins and larks, the finches and cardinals chimed in;
But only the jays’ sharp calls could be heard above the din.
What a ruckus…but so beautiful a song,
It is a ‘wall of sound’ to be envied by rockers.
Orchestrated by Mother Nature….Mrs. God.
The sprinkler's barely heard....
ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch
Squirrels wait out of sight.
One may bark now and then, but
They’ve learned that patience pays.
It’s not just time to feed those damn birds;
It’s time to feed the greedy squirrels too;
And chow time is well worth the wait:
Sunflower seeds. Peanuts. Suet. Dried fruit.
You can almost hear them as they gobble,
“Mmmmmm. Man, this is the good stuff, Bro’.
I mean the good stuff. What a life.
I’ll never leave…not even for a girl squirrel.”
It’s as if they think they’ll never eat again;
As if we hadn’t been feeding them
Every day of their lives…and their parents.
If we could tell them apart.
They would have names.
All this and good coffee too.
What a beautiful Fall morning.
This beautiful life
Life is beautiful
So wonderful indeed
I guess I have it all
I have everything I need
To make each moment sparkle
I need nothing more
Oh, it’s remarkable
It thrills me to the core
I wake up each day
It’s then I meditate
This always be my way
How it makes me feel so great
Then I walk the silent streets
Bear dog by my side
Life feels so very sweet
Each moment deified.
Then there comes the dawn
The birds they sound so sweet
As sun wakes up the morn
I have feathers in my feet
As I gaze at orangs skies
I feel joy within
The Kookaburra cries
The day, it does begin.
20 September 2014 @ 0745hrs
Pedro’s Octave 48
Style created by Peter Duggan on date. 15 September 2014.
In love with it all
I’m in love with all of it
I haven’t got much wealth
I guess I’m getting older now
I’m running down on health
But I’m in love with all of it
Every blade of grass, each tree
I love it with my heart and soul
I adore its mystery.
Everything in life excites me
I don’t know why this be
But I don’t suffer anymore
With depressive misery
Within my world I am a king
Cause I have everything
Every day is dear to me
Each moment makes my heart sing.
That golden Sun there in the sky
Is looking down on me
As he colors all with wondrous glory
Creating so much mystery
As here I sit, so all alone
The whistling soothes my soul
As canary, caged, just sings for me
And the morning feels so whole.
16 September 2013 @ 1125hrs.
My treasure chest
My treasure chest, is not a truth
It’s but a metaphor
For I have never dreamed of wealth
My treasure is much more
It’s filled with the moon, the stars at night
And the sun that shines each day
And the beauty of the darkest sky
That highlights milky-way.
It’s filled with trees, majestic trees
And birds that sing so sweetly
My treasure chest it be filled up
But never though completely
Everything that’s beautiful
Is in my treasure chest
It’s filled with all the countless things
That make me happiest.
My treasure chest is never ending
It goes on till forever
It’s filled with all the love that lives
And the sweetness of together
I need no other treasure chest
This one, it satisfies me
For me, I know with certainty
It contains eternity.
21 July 2013 @ 1018hrs.
walking silently with the spirits of the woods
the stunning acquaintance of a snowy Owl
Hearing songs from many around yet not seen or found
careful your crossing a coral snake or copperhead
preparing to wave all rights to see beauty to live
one piercing bite from the red and yellow snake
deadly shy snake sudden death may await your fate
stillness and earth is touched with Cherokee blood
many tribes with sage and fires dances the brave
you see the wild mustangs ride and deer in mind
the squirrels the rabbits and wolves you hear
the woods once a many land to explore
becomes extinct with Mans desire to build more
how much can we take before it is gone forever
entered " in the woods contest "
Reflections of imperfections
have shown me a way
that I can move mountains
through my power of faith
even though I can't see him
I know he is real
through the power of prayer
and a Love that I feel
It's growing inside me
like a flower in bloom
shall I reveal my powers
or is it too soon
I am reading the signs
through my darkness I find
a reason for belief in
the light of mankind
that I know shall overcome
the greatest of odds
the Love I seek amazes me
especially through the flaws
because now I am inspired
through the hero's that bring
my throne through the darkness
on which I return on as your King.