Killington Mountain, one of the largest Ski resorts in New England.
With its webbing of trails, dotted with colourful kaleidioscopic ski outfits;
racing to the Castle they call a Base Lodge.
My Cabin is atop a mountain across two valleys from Killington's backside
I can see the untamed, wild and free side of Mother Nature's: True being
Where deers have no fears, and the Bald Eagle soars Free
I once did a recue mission there, and when all were safe, I walked
Into the forrest of Nature,where mankind had never before intruded
I walked where the Deer, Bed. where the eaglets squawked for food
I saw the Black Bear awake; "Good Morning Mrs. Black Bear"she Yawned
And walked away.I heard the Evergreens giggle as melting snow ticked Pines
The Serenity,Tranquility,enveloped me in Nature's Wonder of the World.
Inspired by Linda(PD) with her Contest: 7 Wonders of the Ancient and
New World. This POEM is one of my 7 Wonders.
This is Dedicated to all POETS who have written about the Autrocitys of
Mankind to " Nature or THE Beauty of Mother Nature in Rhyme "
This is not a Contest Entree
Copyright © HGarvey Daniel Esquire | Year Posted 2013
Through the foggy mist of a new day dawning
Appears a huge tree, awaiting the birth of another winter morning.
All that remains is its bare branches stretching toward the sky
And an old abandoned nest, left by its owner who traveled south so it wouldn't die.
The tree appears lonely but somehow full of hope
As if it knows Spring will come which enables it to cope.
A few months have gone by and the faithful tree is still there
But now it's consumed with excitement from its first breath of spring air.
It seems new life has come to the tree within a blink of an eye
It now stands picturesque, full of lavish green foliage set against the baby blue sky.
It waves its branches proudly with the breeze as if to show off its features
Which also seems to serve as a welcome sign to all of God's little creatures.
It appears to be much happier, now that its friends are back once again
Cradling brand new birds' nests and providing shelter during the rain.
The little squirrels also take advantage of their most generous host
It seems they like chasing each other up and down the tree's trunk the most.
The tree is now bursting with activity
With all of God's wee ones living His promise of love and longevity.
All through the summer the tree takes pleasure as it continually strives
To serve as the best meeting place for everything that creeps, leaps or flies.
Full of contentment, I'll bet the tree lets out a happy sigh
Every time it watches a baby bird learn how to fly
Or whenever a caterpillar turns into a pretty butterfly.
I often wonder if the tree truly understands
The major part it plays in God's circle of life simply because it stands.
Fall has now arrived and the tree appears sort of saddened by the sound
Of its first leaf gently falling to the ground.
All of its friends begin packing it up as they gather for a big revival
That's when the tree wishes them a safe and happy journey as they head south for their survival.
The tree bids each one farewell and says loud and clear
"To each God's speed and have no fear
For I'll be waiting right here when you come back next year."
It is now winter and a year in the life of the tree has come full circled once more
Although lonely, it is bigger and stronger than ever before.
But I know not to feel sadness, especially for the tree's sake
For in God's plan, He makes sure even the tree gets a well-deserved break.
Copyright © mary singletary | Year Posted 2015
The butterfly went to a party last night all through the evening. It was the drunken butterfly and he saw all different butterflies through the night at the party. Both of them were drunk in front of the butterfly that evening. He woke up the next morning and he didn't remember who gave him drinks. It was different butterflies passing for everyone at the party. His friend found out that there was another butterfly drunk that evening. After that night, one was over and he began to face it with. One of the drunk butterfly at that evening. When he went up to all the butterfly were drunk at the party. Then that night, he went home to get straight from that night all day. Then he looked back to the party to find out who gave him drinks that evening.
Copyright © Frances Roberts | Year Posted 2013
waiting scents of spring trek from long winter silence fawning sounds river deer - Note In a breathe this is not 5-7-5 but best I could do to get the double metaphors flowers fawns birth and sounds of frogs croaking- kajika frog
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
In the midst of the instinct to mate
she went sniffing around for a date
and once on the scent
all her energy spent
succumbed to spring’s arduous fate
John G. Lawless
submitted to – Spring Forward – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Debbie Guzzi
Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015
a kiss of sunshine
pouty crimson horizon
Copyright © Edward McCormick | Year Posted 2013
Away dashes the last frigid brush of winter
Beauty cannot wait to rise and greet the sun
Crocuses are first to break through barren soil
Daffodils display their lacy, yellow petals next
Even the iris is beckoned by warmth
Fragile blooms pray another frost will not come
Gardenias bestow their sweet aroma
Hibernating forsythias wake to grace the garden with gold
In these early weeks of spring
Junipers need time to develop fruit
Kindling and firewood are laid aside
Lovers saunter through gardens
Magical kisses are shared beneath the draping willows
Nests appear high in tall trees
Oaks are filled with robins and blue jays
Peace is found in a hike through the woodlands
Quickly, a red fox darts across the trail
Rabbits are his prey
Squirrels shake their fluffy, furry tails
Total bliss is found in nature’s rebound
Upon the trellis vines are sprouting
Violet morning glories wake to greet sunrise
Winter must remain dormant for nine long months
Xylem carries nutrients to thirsty leaves
Yearlings with dotted hides emerge from forests to graze
Zigzagging among bushes, hummingbirds joyfully welcome spring
*Written February 21, 2015
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2015
Phil was a fuzzy groundhog
Sleeping peacefully below
He dreamed of warmer days
Days of no more snow
Then rough hands reached down
And pulled him from his sleep
What is going on, he shouted
Put me back you giant creep
Why did you drag me out right now
I don’t think you even care
Can’t you see it’s freezing out
Now put me back in there
I’ll come out when the time is right
But not now if you please
Spring will come in its good time
Put me back so I don’t freeze
You crazy men are worried
When will the winter end
It will come when days are warm
On that you can depend
Copyright © John Squires | Year Posted 2015
Cherry blossoms call,
beckon nature's majesty--
and the humble bee.
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013
Pill bugs wet with dew
as crawling gray domes mirror
green turf, salmon sun.
Copter seeds whirling,
a squirrel chases paper
treasure for her nest.
Young cat mock-tweeting,
wily sparrows unheeding,
paws press on the screen.
Copyright © B.B.Woodall Tulsa OK | Year Posted 2014
bat flies sees nothing
from his nest eagle sees all
the groundhog takes bets
Copyright © Warner Baxter | Year Posted 2015
Upon a tree, the one tree, in the field,
Branches and leaves hang loosely from the trunk,
Providing protection to those concealed;
A soft leaf provides an egg with a bunk.
The small white shell sits in the settlement,
full of distrust, remorse and betrayal.
It has been abused by the elements,
one of mother nature's fallen angels.
Close inspection shows a crack on the side,
seemingly abandoned by any kin,
it fell far from home with the wind's high tide,
yet a small noise can be heard from within.
The white shell splits at the crack with a cry,
Now free, the little green hummingbird flies.
Written: March 21st, 2015 at 11:00 EST
Copyright © Veronica Capo | Year Posted 2015
Here I am in my dear homeplace.
Amidst the cheer and chatter.
I see such hope on every face
as they yank me out with a clatter.
A chamomile tea would suit me well.
So hurry off my good man.
Tis' nearly time that I foretell
as only Punxy can.
So many folks from near and far
have come to hear my prediction.
Like wishing on a falling star
they all eat up this fiction!
All these humans take my word
and watch my fetching shadow.
To me it's bordering on absurd;
just a showman born to wow!
For contest "Punxsutawney Phil Speaks"
Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2015
Peepers pipe spring chimes birds sing as the hummingbirds hum along with bees * * thunder drum rolls as warm breezes whistle in trees raindrop cymbals ring * ** a clean rest then brooks fulfill the springs gushing song instrumental peace
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
Spread your wings, delicate butterfly
Humming birds call out for you
Flutter into lush green gardens; don’t be shy
Sample the nectar of flowers kissed by dew
You are one of the chosen few
In chrysalis you waited for spring’s rebirth
Transforming like the season
Daffodils and tulips now sprout from earth
Failure to make your debut would be treason
You were created for this reason
Carry colors on wings spread wide
Brighten the lives of all who see you
Emerge from your cocoon; in crisp air reside
Nature's love awaits ‘neath skies of satin blue
Please linger for months before bidding adieu
*Written March 29, 2014
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2014
Once upon a time in a new day dawning
In the crack of time between night and morning
Something caught me from yarning
It was sweet but felt like a warning
That death is night to life of a new day born in
This celebration of life beginning
The song bird took up their instruments and started singing
Awakening sleepers with a joyous springing
Ending their short death with a new up bringing
So sing little song bird
Every morning as the sun comes anew
Only recognized by the few
Flapping her wings in the dew
She’s that song bird
Cracking the dawn, she’s heard
What can she say? She’s just a bird
Can’t speak but you know her word
So sing little song bird sing
With your melody bring
The wind of nature in your wing
In your serenade there’s our fling
All I am saying
Is sing little song bird sing
Copyright © siza sibiya | Year Posted 2013
I Love, The Spring
I love each season, each for a reason
But spring I love most of all
I love the flowers. They have such power
I love spring, it’s wonderful
I do love the rain. When it’s here again
I love to feel it on skin
How my heart is stirred, when I hear the birds
Making such beautiful din
I love pink and greys, I love their sweet way
They’re such a bright cockatoo
I leave for them seeds, that fills all their needs
It gets me feeling brand new
I sit by the lake as photo’s I take
Watch Kangaroos coming by
There’s ducks having fun’ beneath the warm sun
Some on the grass they do lie
Oh I love the spring. Such beauty it brings
Everything feels so new born
So here now I sit. And I must admit
It’s such a lovely spring morn
5 March 2016
Dees Twenty, Ten, Seven Created by Dee Dawn on 09 12 15.
Lines 20.... 10/7/10/7/10/7/ through all lines.
Stanza's 2 of 8 lines and I of 4 lines
Rhyme scheme For first two stanza’s Ist line.. (with inner rhyme) a. a,
2nd line b. 3rd line. (with inner rhyme ) c.c.4th. line b.
5th line. (with inner rhyme) d.d 6th. line e.
7th line. ( with inner line ) f.f. 8th. line .e
Third Stanza done like the first 4 lines of the other two stanza's
Copyright © peter duggan | Year Posted 2016
THE TRANSMOGRIFICATION OF THE UNICORN IN THE WARLOCK’S GARDEN
Sabien, Sr. gathers his weapons to join his son.
In his quest to depart knowledge, he must be the wise one.
His son heard him speak that Sabien, II was the Unicorn in the
Sabien, II slept silently amongst the flowers and the trees.
Thus far, he had not been transmuted.
His father promises his faith.
He would change him into a much grandeur state.
As the night became day, Sabien, Sr. finds all the herbs that will be
needed for transmogrification.
He begins to fulfill his promise.
He will sup with the Unicorn.
At eleven-thirty a.m., Sabien, Sr. beacons for the Unicorn who was
patiently waiting under his favorite tree.
He responded by entering the Warlock’s Vicinity.
The feast started at noon with drink, meats, breads, berries, and so
The Unicorn spoke to his father.
He was not aware of his metamorphosis.
He had transformed to his human image,
which is Sabien Allegra Baldwin, II.
The splendor of glory shows his father to be a powerful Warlock.
Magnificent are both in their opulence.
Sabien, Sr. speaks and proclaims his son as the next Warlock.
Sabien, II recognizes himself as a young man.
He stands and accepts his position as the Warlock’s Apprentice.
They embraced militantly and voiced their creed…
Our spirits must be with the heavens and terrain.
Our focus is terrestrial.
This is our garden that we must protect.
A superfluous and superlative existence we have.
Sabien, Sr. speaks, “The revelation of your crossing, Sabien, II, is superb.
You came, as I knew you would.”
PENNED JULY 15, 2014.
(For the first part, please read the Unicorn in the Warlock's Garden!)
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
as new life flowers equal illumination meager changing clothes * ** the sun the moon draws warming hearts and minds amply a new leaf to turn
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014
black ice fools
swans’ midnight landing
tickles newborn twigs
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2013
Kill Da Wabbit
(a low IQ non fat Haiku)
Carrot hangs on branch
Kill da wabbit kill da wabbit
C.I.L.L....... da wabbit
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
To look at your eyes,
They’re so big and so brown.
I’d reach forward to pet you,
Ears fall to the ground.
My eyes fill with tears,
As I pull away,
How many years
Have you been caged this way?
How long has it been?
Since you took a swim?
How long did you wait
For a scratch on your chin?
How many nights
Have you slept all alone?
When is the last time
You chewed on a bone?
I’m taking you home
Is all I could think,
I’ll fill you with food,
So much water to drink.
You can play with new friends,
Have a bed of your own.
Even sleep with us all,
Instead of alone.
There will be no more cages,
And bars like a jail,
I will scratch your chin,
Until you wag your tail.
Welcome home sweet one
Please do come on in,
Hey look at our pool,
Let’s go for a swim.
Copyright © Athena Hoefs | Year Posted 2015
What’s that noise I’m a hearin’ just above my head
Man, what is wrong with you can’t you see I’m in bed!
Hibernating throughout the winter is such a cushy thing,
But here you come again bells a ringing; always a wondering
About my dag nab-bit shadow, my eye sight,
and the weather that’s leading up to spring~
If’n I had my way I’d still be sleeping!
You’d think with all the new technology the weatherman would get it right…
But, Nooo… the Mayor has got me up and I must face my plight;
If’n I sees my shadow, I must do the shake as with fright.
DJ don’t you dare crank up that music…
No coffee, or chi tea for me,
The effects will make this ground hog weak in the knees…
Just do me a favor if’n you’d please ~
When it’s all over put me back in my home so I can catch some ZZZ’s
This is Punxsutawney Phil signing off saying hopeful weather;
Good Day to all, I’m going back to bed,
Have a Good Night!
Contest: Punxsutawney Phil Speaks
Sponsor: John Lawless
Copyright © Adell Foster | Year Posted 2015
A warbler flits just out of sight
High up in the trees
His vocal song comes raining down
But still I cannot see
He gives me but the shortest glimpse
Behind the curtained leaves
Whilst singing here and flitting there
In the tops of trees
The singing stops but still I look
Scanning high and low
Hidden now by just one leaf
My hope now starts to grow
Into the suns shining spotlight
Thos little bird hops out
For just a moment and then he's gone
I give a joyful shout
Deep into trees the bird flies on
Ne'er more to grace my eye
But with my glass I search on still
To fine one more surprise
Copyright © Daniel McAdams | Year Posted 2013
I know about a man of the early morning, a simple man. No man of deep thought, accompanied by those who do not. He is a man that very much enjoys the cool lush grass. He likes to take his shoes off while he works, to feel the dew between toes, on his chest and his face. In stillness and pain incomprehensible; all thoughts are halted. What follows is profound silence, which is when the beast lifts the earth, dense muck. Limbs strained and back arched, a fresh ditch. Or a resting place?
Copyright © Pyrolun Lun | Year Posted 2014
wet mollusks crawl forth;
slime trails tracing their passage
through just planted rows
Copyright © Edward Johannes | Year Posted 2015
Country living in New Hampshire was like heaven on earth,
It was Nature in her glory with the spring’s rebirth.
We owned a big pond and had the wildlife come around…
It was beautiful tranquility that left us spellbound.
It’s city living for me now in Georgia, and a whole other thing.
But Georgia has all kinds of creatures the country can bring.
I’ve gone out with a guy that owns a 15 acre pond,
With snakes and alligators too scary for this blonde.
He and his neighbors get alligators all the time,
And sometimes they kill them for dinnertime!
I don’t know if country life here would be that great,
If I wasn’t careful I would end up gator bait!
Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016
Snowed in the night,
One week into May
The chill hadn’t stopped.
The Orioles and Finches
Looked so confused,
With snow flakes falling,
They were not amused.
Our chipmunks and squirrels
Have all run Amok
They are waiting for warmth,
With no further luck.
With tomatoes in mind,
To put in the garden,
With veggies, of all kinds.
Waited for weeks,
They were ready to go,
Finally able to plant,
They forecasted snow.
Written by: @
Copyright © Athena Hoefs | Year Posted 2015
went there's a weather change
they have a amie
speard there wings
hum and sing
thats there thing
BRIDS OF SPRING
Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2013
Deer Cross Path
Deer cross path
a panoramic parade
of a graceful herd family
serene and slender
in the snow-park sunshine.
Shady woods offer refuge
to the group
as they make their way
cautiously amidst trees,
marking the snow
as an artist's
these gracious painters
Copyright © Paula Grover | Year Posted 2016