~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
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015
Looking up I spot a bird; floating in the sky just soaring way up high. Graceful with wings spread never seeming to move slowly he circles around. In the distance another calls out as joining in this dance in the sky! The two ever higher begin their decent slow and mythological. What feels like hours I watch enjoying the sight drifting downward? What beauty the two birds display as they dare soar closer with each pass.
At last I can tell their hawks. A pair I’m sure for they fly together and call out to one another. I watch as one pauses on a tree limb looking about. The other still circling above and calls out once again. An answer comes from the beauty on the limb.
Amazed I watch the other land on the bird bath. What a sight to see as the smaller one now splashes in the bath. Clean and dry off she flies into the trees. The big hawk again into the sky higher and higher I watch him soar. Soon he’s high enough it’s difficult to tell this graceful soaring bird is the hawk from my backyard. A cry from afar and then he too disappears from my sight.
I find myself looking up watching and waiting for soaring high I’ll see my hawks. The graceful dance in the sky I know will lead them to the bird bath along with the branch where he sits and waits. A cry will sound in the distance alerting me of their intended arrival. My hawks will soar high circling with grace till they dare once more visit a while.
Copyright © Debbie Knapp | Year Posted 2011
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 "
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
It waits on the wedge of a field
no longer lonely, another
floats in for a landing above
a sea of yellow flowers
Who will forget that wonderful fuss,
the mock scolding of an absence
now being celebrated
The preaching by a full range of
vocals - wing tips folding and unfolding
against a new, and thinking sky
For Andrea's SF Contest
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013
A TRAGEDY OF PRIDE ( hubris)
In the Arctic nights the jazz born North Lights sound
with a music of their own. Fair winds ferry fragile birds--
take to the skies in search of sympathetic warmth profound
while white breathless silence magnifies each sound as it is heard
and few venture forth, like bears they dash to find a haven
where they can hide until reluctantly the sun has stirred--
But, there is one jay bird who is not one of nature’s craven
creatures-- Waiting for a spring call from his mate, he hops into the hungry snow
to dance a dangerous dance in icy morning with the ravens.
There is a God flung magic that dashes high above the haughty human know
among the ancient secret kingdoms of the mystery sky--
And there it is that Wisdom’s Word is spread by wing and wayward winds that blow
their way in worldwide splendor and intricate magnificence that defies
the mind of man. It is a truth that dalliance in vanity is inborn---
Man or bird, into the nature of some spirits-- it low lies
and becomes incited when grand fame or imagined glory has been shorn
by another . And , so-- in Persia when the Prince of Peacocks heard
murmurs of the razzing ravens and the sassy sparrows high sky airborne
a proclamation that the World knew now there lived a peerless bird--
plucky-proud, surpassing the peacock -- Jay magnificent with a spirit daunting, a weight
of valiant blue in shades escaped of double rainbows, color-blurred
who bedazzled all nature’s eyes and winds of ear, that judiciously beheld each trait.
The peacock, no longer Highest Prince of Birds, screamed a terrible and cosmic sound
of jealousy. Ignoring all the glory that still made him great--
the vain and foolish peacock fell-- stunned and breathless to the ground.
Victoria Anderson-Throop 2012 ©
Written in Juja, Kenya
Bird is Stellar Jay, common in Valdez, Alaska
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012
My favourite comics is the Peanuts strip
Featuring 'good grief' good old Charlie Brown
Reading it takes me on a pleasant trip
Especially when Snoopy is around
Charlie Brown's faithful beagle is Snoopy
They get along with each other quite well
He can be sneaky when he is ready
Yet, just when and where, you can never tell
When Linus, in one hand, holds his blanket
The thumb of his other hand in his mouth
Snoopy sneaks in, suddenly grabs hold of it
Then runs around, spinning him all about
Yellow Woodstock is Snoopy's feathered friend
He bounces up and down when he's flying
On Snoopy's friendship he needs to depend
He alone knows what Woodstock is saying
Snoopy flies off in his Sopwith Camel
To the skies to battle the Red Baron
They both engage in a fearsome duel
Each trying to outdo the other one
Snoopy dances around when he's happy
If Lucy is close by, she must watch out
He would dance up to her very closely
Lean over and then kiss her on the mouth
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2015
This story is based partly on the Indian mythology and partly
on my imagination. The story theme is anger, which can destroy
even the entire Earth, but if controlled it can also be converted
into creative energy. The incident is from the mythology of Hindus,
which speaks, how Shiva the supreme God of Hindus started
one day his Tandava Nritya * or the Dance of destruction and
how it was controlled …..What was the cause of this anger would
be explained in the concluding part of this epic.
When the Earth was in danger 07
By then the new foliage of spring had began to smile,
on the branches of every tree,
All the buds of the flower plants had started blooming,
in that new swing of season,
Fragrance coming from the sandalwood forests,
was flowing in the air all around,
intoxicating everyone and everything,
All the insects, animals and birds,
which were not conscious about this sudden change of season,
Began to dance in sweet pleasure,
after tasting the intoxication flowing in the air. 25
Even the Koyal* started its sweet spring singing,
in her most melodious voice during that time,
which she had never sang before.
The peacock also started its most colorful and
The Rivers too began to flow with the most pleasing sound,
as if they were singing a song.
The sky had opened in those moments,
its fabulous treasures of alluring colors,
to charm the entire universe.
The Sun rays coming from behind the hovering colorful clouds
were spreading on the earth,
a magical scene which no one had ever witnessed on Earth.
Such was the grandeur and wind of attractions,
everywhere on the earth,
that even Gods too got completely lost,
what to say of human beings. 26
Embodiment of Shiva* the Neelkantha*
which use to fly often high and low in the air,
were today dancing like a Peacock,
while spreading their blue wings in the air.
What had happened to the Earth,
why everyone was lost in the realm of a different world.
All the inhabitants of Earth and even of the heaven,
were keeping a silence only with folded hands.
As they were either praying to Shiva or
were silently praying to their favorite Gods
to save the earth.
Kanpur India 07 h April 2011 to continue in 8
• Koyal = a singing bird of India like nightingale.
• Neelkanth* = Blue jay. A bird having blue throat. To see Neelkanth please open
Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2011
Maestro woodpecker taps his beat
to the symphony of a rising sun,
casting rays on Boardman Pond.
Great white heron, the prima ballerina,
strikes her pose
as blue herons pirouette.
An ibis takes flight with grace
as a tri-colored heron waltzes,
displaying multi-hued plumage.
Alone on the observation deck,
I am blessed to view the ballet,
a most welcome, daily, sunrise ritual.
Even the nesting wood stork
adds his cries to the harmonious melody,
echoing through rising mist on pristine wetlands.
Peace and poise reign
until the predatory osprey swoops across the stage,
causing other birds to scatter.
Even a basking gator’s eyes
rise to observe the flutter of wings.
Only the great white heron remains composed.
*Inspired by Robert Butler’s “Majestic Pose”
Written February 21, 2015
Boardman Pond, located in Volusia County, Florida, has a deck for watching the many amazing birds that nest and play in the wetlands surrounded by the forest of a state park.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2015
In the park, there stands a very old tree
Which has been there before I came to be
I love sitting on the bench in its shade
Just being there, my concerns seem to fade
On its branches, I can hear birds singing
And I can feel a gentle breeze blowing
Then the leaves of the tree begin to dance
Watching their movement puts me in a trance
I can see sunlight peeping through the leaves
As they continue dancing in the breeze
Softly, I thank the tree for being there
And caress its furrowed bark with great care
That tree is now my very special friend
Our friendship will endure to the end
Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2015
wings Para Para pink fans fly into the sun the lawn is silent
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
Nature’s Single Dad:
The Australian Emu :
The first 55 days
Emund is busy
partners who’ll put
him to the test.
His pedigree line
has proven with time
that it is now his
turn, to be best.
He hears them emerge
from the bush as
they gather in
answer to nature’s
They dance, and then
go away, they know
they cannot stay;
there is not enough
food for them all.
They dip and they
weave as they mingle
that each has a
With his reputation,
there is no
he is ready to join
in the dance.
‘Bonk! Bonk,’ comes
the sound of another
Emulena!’ he says
with a grin.
Others move to the
side as he leaves
to greet this dancer
as she flounces in.
rhythmic movement of
hips she fluffs up
her boa, it bounces
He matches her mood.
His movements are
as they twist and
twirl in their
He does not fuss
about who takes the
lead, he follows and
their dance now is
With steps that are
light he glides to
he meets her, bows
“Sorry, we cannot
stay longer, we all
must find paddocks
It matters not
whether we all stay
we trust you to know
what to do.”
As she speaks, they
deposit their gifts,
and he hears, as in
chorus they say,
“We know you’ll do
magically, what you
to deliver these in
your own way.”
After completing her
task, Emulena stands
tall and she fluffs
up her feathers once
They follow her lead
in twos, and in
and promenade across
the dance floor.
Left all alone, he
goes back to his
duties and looks
closely at each pale
He checks all for
defects. He sees
they are perfect,
so with care he
covers every one
He sticks to his
task for fifty-five
days in sunshine,
strong winds and
He values each
treasure and tends
them with pleasure
as he, turns each
egg every three
Through his long
lashes he sees
danger coming. He
drops his neck down
like a log.
Feathers flying on
high and red fur
he needs to fool
both bird and dog.
The shells have now
turned a dark bluey
green, there’s an
infertile egg in the
This egg will be
food for his hungry
but he won’t eat or
drink, ‘til they
Each day he looks
up, and turns his
head to the sun as
it rises each
He’ll sit day and
night until the
He knows, that time
to be continued...
Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012
The birdsong orchestra tunes up
The dancers await their cue
Suddenly, the musical sound erupts
Each butterfly knowing what to do
First they stand and flutter their wings
Like a ballerina with a straight stance
As one, in formation, they launch
themselves into a twist and twirl dance.
The ooh's and aah's of the watchers
As a myriad of colour floats by
In and out of the flower bed
To visit each one, they will try
Drinking out of the flowers
Gives them energy anew
A spiral flight towards heaven
Was the finale to view
Summertime brings us so much fun
Butterflies and birds to watch and listen to
Flowers showing off their colours
Then comes Autumn with pleasures anew
Penned 26 September 2013 by Seren Roberts
Copyright © SEREN ROBERTS | Year Posted 2013
Bless you, my
you have found your
going to school far
She texts me from
“I’m learning the
Skylarks inspire her
Early sights and
(from her morning
energize her soul
with style and
Skylarks - Kralyk's
Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2014
When one sees the penguins stand
in ice born storm at minus forty
why don't they move to a better land.
They stand together and don't complain
then they walk to the sea again.
What do they do just standing there?
looking up at snowflakes fall
do they wonder and compare
the snow flakes size and weight'n all
perhaps they ask how many in a bunch,
Mostly I spect they think of lunch.
Why do they nest on hard cold ice
far, so far, from the water's side
with no food and no bed thats nice.
Do they stand about with pride
And think of food and dream and wish
about their sea so full of fish.
Do they wonder about their children
with a parents welling love,
what do they hope for their baby.
And do they tell their fluffy young ones
about the stories their father told them
as they stood on their grandads feet.
Do some dream of slick fast swim
arrow sleek through high light waters
of sweeping curve and fish fast turn
as they stand on ice hard water.
How do the baby penguins feel
when first they see the ice cold water,
are they eager but full of fear
is it then a heaven for them
to feel the wonder of achievement
of the dance, a water ballet.
What is it to be a penguin
to be a wobbly bumbling comic
who waddles wobbly with no grace
But soon is born to the water.......
and graceful dances in the wonderous sea.
Copyright © Paddi March | Year Posted 2014
None can compare.
To the nude silver branches and barren expanses,
That the cool of winter doth bring.
Unless you equate the way the birds sing,
In the start of the fresh, blooming spring.
Or perhaps the warm air,
Filled with crickets’ prayer,
That’s found only in the summer’s afternoon glare.
But then there is the time of the harvest,
With leaves like the paint on the palette of an artist.
Such tender, splendor indeed, in each season is found,
For in Nature, beauty truly doth rise and abound.
Shawnee Doling-Tye 10/6/13
Copyright © shawnee doling-tye | Year Posted 2013
Gentle wisp of air
Flutter the ladybird's wings
Spring beckons, raindrops
Copyright © Denise Morgan | Year Posted 2015
I smile as it seems to be,
The wind came to play with me.
For i lay in bed,
Ill for what seems like forever.
I cannot move or dance myself,
So the wind and my dreams dance together.
I watch as the humming birds made of lace,
come alive before my eyes.
I love to watch the sweet caress,
Of the lacy blinds against the open glass.
I love to watch as my dreams take me,
Dancing me out my small window
To the open land and tall trees,
To the light in the skies,
And the smell of the seas.
I laugh as i slip away into my dreams,
Now i can dance for myself.
Copyright © Arianna Ingham | Year Posted 2012
Three finches gather at the old bird feeder
Nestled near the small patch of corn
Enthusiastically taking turns twirling around
Like at a ho down at the old Seller’s barn
Doing acrobatic dance maneuvers
As thistle seed falls merrily to the ground
Three happy finches dancing away the day
As shadows begin to emerge on the old wooden fence
Three weary finches danced their hearts out
A few feathers less than when they first begun
Copyright © Gwendolen Rix | Year Posted 2014
As old as humanity
Girls sell for a price
Food and sex is a precarious combination
Man and beast sailing in the same trepidation
Among beasts the female decides her mate
Amongst humans man decides his choicest pick
A chimpanzee shares her body at a foody price
A peacock sings and dances for a hen he queens
Lady bugs playing fast and loose is no big vice
Females in charge to pick and choose for better genes
Man's philandering leaves behind his tainted genes
November 1, 2015
Contest: A Poet's Dozen
Sponsor: Silent One
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
Listen to the gossip of the rain,
dancing on my windows and jumping on the pavement,
thrumming and battering on the roofs,
plays a little sleep-song on my roof at night,
when it hits the ground, becomes a rivulet.
Listen to the rain falling from the sky,
tracks blending into the fresh sky-fallen trickles,
crackle dry verandah like an old walkie-talkie coming to life,
beat the panes like timorous wings,
and quench our endless thirst.
Listen to the pouring rain,
pouring from dark skies,
crashed deafeningly on the corrugated metal roof,
fell down constantly like an endless bucket of water being
poured down from the heaven,
sounds like the heavens are knocking on my door,
droplets thrashed at the ground, with ferocity matchless,
beat upon my heads with silver liquid drops.
Copyright © Seth Yuhi Musinga | Year Posted 2015
Laugh at the loons, dancing on the water
Copyright © Michael Spangle | Year Posted 2015
burns like candle wax,
slow, but not
so slow that
you do not observe,
the melting pools
and sweet intoxicating aroma,
of lead sinking
softly into the brain,
and physiological make-up,
until you are something
like some twisted Cronenberg movie,
smash the lock,
with great bat wings
and silver beaks,
carrying the hazy nightmare
in clenched talon claws,
and spilling the blood
of a thousand sleepless nights,
in the one motion.
Copyright © Oliver Gould | Year Posted 2015
Through That Door
As the Sun crashed through my window
As the birds awoke the dawn
My mind made new by daybreak
It became the day reborn.
A whisper stirred within me
From my heart arose these words
“Go through that door to the other side
Then you’ll “hear” these blessed birds”.
As those trees did softly rustle
In the early morning breeze.
Me, I became the morning
And the breeze that moved these trees
And the whisper softly told me
As the dawn it beckoned me
“Go through that door to the other side
Then you’ll dance just like those trees”.
Through that door, through that door
Go through that door beyond.
Just keep on moving to the other side
Let your shadows all be gone.
That door seemed so elusive
When I sought it with my mind
Then the whisper seemed to tell me
Just leave your mind behind
Then I felt the sweetest music
As the trees they shone so bright
And as I wandered through that door
I felt such sweet delight
Written in 2002
Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2015
OK, I made extensive use of the Phrontistery website for this one. I had fun putting it together. Enjoy, but don't forget your dictionary. :-)
Aardwolves padding just outside of the abattoir
Baboons engaged in bacchanals, and besotted bagarres
Cacomistles serving as caduceators to the cabals of caitiffs
Dabchicks developing their skills as daring daedalists
Eirenic elaphures, embrocating with emollients
Fastidious foumarts, fomenting and fulminating
Gallant galahs dancing both galliards and gavottes
Habile hammerkops inciting habromania in herons, by performing the habanera
Ibexes instituting iatrarchies after practicing Ichthyomancy
Jocose jabiru wearing jacinthe colored jerseys
Kagu playing the kalimba, and the kantele, and the kakaki too
Lammergeyer engaging in lampadomancy, searching for lamister llamas
Mangabeys issuing mandaments for the management of mangonels
Nabalitic Nagors becoming narquois naysayers, naucifying négociants
Onagers obambulating with obstreperous okapi and obsequious olms
Paciferous pachyderms preparing paeans to paedocracies
Quaggas serving as qualificators, as they quantulate the quawk population
Rabelaisian raad reciting rabulous and raffish razzmatazz
Sagacious saki, of sanguine sensitivities, playing sarangi and sarinda
Tahrs with tamburitzas and takins with terpodions composing theodies
Ubiquitous Uakari undertaking unequivocal uranology
Voracious Vaalhaai voicing vainglorious and voluble vapidities
Wayfaring wapiti wandering whithersoever they wish
Xanthareels playing xylorimbas for xenurines and xenops
Yabbies in yabbas busy yaffing at yaffingales playing tunes on their yang-chins
Zanders sporting Zapatas, dancing the Zamacueca and the Zapateado
Copyright © Michael Spangle | Year Posted 2016