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.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012
Spring marks the end of winter and start of summer
It is lovely with colorful contrasts
Norway is a long country with a lot of mountains and valleys
Wide variations in climate from south to north and from east to west
Migrant's return, and the first flower is coltsfoot
Both humans and animals awakened by hibernation with new energy
The sun is high, no snow falls and the birds singing
Small downy mouse ears to be leaves on birch tree
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
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
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
Peace of nature shows
how relaxing life can be
and can show you truth
Copyright © Christian Childs | Year Posted 2013
She meandered through
new spring grass, startling bugs
shortening their lives, taking her fill
with grandeur displayed
solely for her benefit.
His swagger almost took him
airborne, his tail feathers spread
into a fan of splendor
his princely prance seemingly
not even a blip on her view
Our appearance on the scene
assured his utmost strut, trumpeting
at us as we laughed and mocked
his silly gobble
Yet his strategy succeeded
She now sits on her nest
at the edge of the yard
under the hickory tree, just beyond
where the mower runs
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2015
of an old tune lost
in bird song
Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015
The mockingbird returns in spring.
What it does best is sing, sing, sing.
Its sings of this and sings of that
and leaves no doubt of where it’s at.
It sings all day . . well into night:
grows irksome past that first delight.
And always comes back from its stay,
to that same bush, not far away.
The birds of winter soon are gone.
Most of them have now moved on.
And mockingbird with typical gall,
Attempts to mimic one and all.
A busy bird it glides and swoops.
Will challenge one or even groups.
When feeling threatened for its young;
A bird-war barrage has begun.
This slender mid-sized bird of grey,
Will be here soon; it's on its way.
Once again to sing, sing, sing,
To let us know it's really spring.
And late into each summer night,
Once I get past that first delight.
I'll wish from on my patio chair:
It wasn't here, but rather . . there!
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
(Dedicated to Folake)
Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.
Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.
May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.
Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.
Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.
Copyright © Onis Sampson | Year Posted 2013
The birds sit on the willow;
The sun peeps from the sky.
Downstream the noisy rivers flow,
And busy ants scurry by.
A butterfly with rainbow color
Runs wildly as a vine -
Passing o're the flowers
In paths of strange designs.
The flower trees are bending:
Smiling to the rain.
Gigantic trees are mending;
And summer dawns again.
Copyright © Patrick Carpen | Year Posted 2015
I'm the worm Persephone’s minions found;
Blackbirds drinking from Apollo’s brewery
Warbled their songs into my gloomy bedroom,
For the Feast of Spring.
New verse created 6 April 2015 for Sapphic Stanza #3 contest
Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2015
Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul
at this season.
Equatorial island exploring its amazed
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next
Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma
Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.
At event of recreation, campfire were
Nobody around us, private moments
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again
Hand in hand danced with the soothing
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her
Expecting the light around us to be dim.
The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand
She looked too pretty in her gold lame
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!
Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.
Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout
life in this lovely weather.
Will be your shadow, because your pain
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry
me, my Kindred Soul?
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013
7 Haiku Geese
Canadian Geese do point
Fly in ‘V’ shaped directives
Past’s learnt directions!
….didee © HAIKU
*Arrow signs direct
Sky-masses of geese elites
Comings and goings!
*All northern geese
Bid ‘fly-byes’ seasonally
Spring and winter tours!
….didee © HAIKU
Our geese have great flocks
Soaring far north in summer
Down south in winter!
….didee © HAIKU
Two pilots each tour
One Canadian goose ‘flagpoles
Two tails split ends!
…. didee © HAIKU
We waited the winter long
For your passing now in spring
Bringing summer soon!
Copyright © Diane M Quinlan | Year Posted 2015
The Apple PASTURE
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.
Copyright © JAY JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011
Now I am walking.
There's a sun in the sky
Early birds fly.
in the clouds going by
Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2014
A new flower begins to sprout
green buds closed, barely peeking out.
The crisp air warms as a farmer wakes up
chirping baby birds, fresh pink tulips.
One bunny, two bunny, three bunny, four...
Away each hop to play and explore!
Fragrant lilacs dance with the breeze
nectar gathered by hardworking honey bees.
A darting duckling follows her mother
while the furry caterpillar seeks a cool cover.
Bright blue skies on a cloudless day
a joyful child excited to play!
May you March this April with springtime in mind
for this sun-kissed season was designed to unwind!
Submitted to Spring Contest
March 14, 2016
Copyright © Kimberly Heller | Year Posted 2016
For quite a while we were cursing our almost ice age days and nights
Though we got our dear Santa, merry Christmas and fluid delight
Tasty chocolate before the fireplace and the warmth nestling in nightshirt
Still we were waiting when the sun would tilt to us and hug, - in fresh love
Gradually there is green affection playing along with rustling wind
Green is playground bubbly with the children in their green of breath
A mildly inebriate ease we fill in from the nips of breezy pines
A breath of life, ah, in your green hug amidst the vigorous birch and oak
Over the distant blue and green hills, scarlet tanagers at play with clouds
Cows and lambs graze soft grass sitting in hill side fields of sprawling green
Rising from the dewy greenery rapture at play on your chin
Scented air from the lilacs call us to an unknown dance
In silent steps, in a dim blue light, comes up full moon over the hill
In moonlit night all are wild in denial about their disease and death
The wild animals have come out too in order to be into each other's heat
Spring in life is as transient as a water bubble on a lotus leaf __________________________________________________________________
March 20, 2016
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2016
Gentle wisp of air
Flutter the ladybird's wings
Spring beckons, raindrops
Copyright © Denise Morgan | Year Posted 2015
A slow-creeping mollusk
Belonging to family
Differing from slugs
Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013
Spring rain comes
dancing on ground
it seeps through
cracks of dry land
heals the wounds
and buds bloom
Raw rain drops
stay quiet on leaves
and dribble on
nest beneath where
love birds swing
enjoy the patter
Brave breeze opens
red tulip buds
sunrays give kiss
they feel shy and
bend towards wet
shade of trees
the tune of spring
I calmly listen
and miss grandma
who used to keep
grains for hungry birds
April 6, 2016.
Anacreontic Verse 3 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ebbs
24 - lines, 3-5 syllables per line, colours used: red and blue
Enter the Any Poem Written On April 4th, 5th or 6th 2016Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
Copyright © Meenakshi Raina | Year Posted 2016
As she lay on her knees
surounded by the these brown clored leaves
she gazed up high
it was like she
was floating above
but a cold breeze
sievers down her spine
shaking it off
she picks up
a dandi lion
she made her wish and threw it
sending it flyinging in the wind
the birds whistling
she starts to sing
its not autum anymore
no more autum leaves
just a warm summer breeze
Copyright © Jamie Walker | Year Posted 2014
April, Sweet Sounds Of Life
( A Bird Singing To Me)
Sweetest, softest sounds I ever heard
were sweet notes of a mockingbird.
Sitting up high in an old, dead oak tree
far above busy hive of honey bees.
April is here with its wet, hard rains
hitting us like many wrecking trains.
Warm winds start replacing chilly cold
as we long for those happy days of old.
Joy sounds in the notes of mockingbirds
like sweet whispers of a lover's words.
Please, listen today if you think you can
will cheer the soul of any lonely man.
Robert J. Lindley -04-17-2014
Note- This poem was written based on a memory from
decades ago. A visit to my favorite woods. To my favorite spot there
and my resting under an old elm tree. Moments later a mockingbird
flew and landed on the old dead oak tree in front of where I rested
and serenaded me. Just as -if- it had been sent !! In fact, it stayed there
until I got up to leave and followed me right up to the road where my
car was park. I noted that strange bird behavior..
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
Thin ice fades away
Worms begin to stir beneath
Sprouted grass tickles ant’s toes
Fingerprints on glass
A blue jays nest on my eve
Babies sing its spring
Muck squash rubber boots
Rain sprinkles from heaven’s gate
Rainbows glow full bloom
Scent of white violets
Innocence blooms, babies smile
Sand grows in socks and shoes
Ah yes summer’s sun
Convertibles screech down roads
Trees awake leafless
Written by : Corrina Leblond
Copyright © Corrina Leblond | Year Posted 2015
A The Sea Bird
During the occupation of Norway when many fled to
Sweden or England the new generation has forgotten that
in their hatred of refugees.
I remembered a seabird called Alke which was snared
It was a big bird and needed hours to cook and served with
boiled potatoes and brown gravy which I liked
but I was not keen on the bird it tasted of cod-liver oil
but had to eat some meat usually through tears and mother
hitting me over the head with a wooden spoon.
After the war and little work in factories, the alke was hunted to
near extinction, luckily it was saved in time.
The Norwegians see the world through a fog of self- inflicted fear
feel inundated by a few migrants,
now that the oil price has fallen they would like to see the newcomers,
like the alke, become a rarity
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2016
Our apple tree is exuberant tonight,
its white blossoms flare within emerald shades
of our big cottonwoods,
and the flashing red finch descends
busy among the bursting white flames,
when suddenly, by a small boy enraptured,
it poses as the guardian halcyon.
Love in April is like this,
measured in flashes
of red wings in trees
and scored in lines of
molten sunlight, pouring
through our knotty fence
into the silky darkness
of our star drenched night
Copyright © Steven Federle | Year Posted 2015
Oh! how I like to be a bird,
It has no worries or cares,
It has the freedom to move about at its whims and fancies,
It can stop and fly at its own will,
It can fly around the places it likes,
It can sit on the branch of a tree ,
And go on pecking,
It can run after its mates,
Fondle them and caress them,
Making sweet noises and screams,
It can join a vast number of its kind
And fly to long distances,
From one end of the globe to another,
It's life is one of everlasting joy.
Copyright © Jesudason Atputharajah | Year Posted 2016
As spring is born it bursts forth it's green,
as the living woods look so fresh and clean.
I sit by myself and I close my eyes,
listening to the birds as I breathe in a deep sigh.
The birds they sing a song just for me,
In a world so clam they sing a sweet melody.
Seeing the trees of every shape and size,
as they bask in the sun from the early morning rise.
Golden is their bark so rough and strong,
as their graceful branches are so lean and long.
Woodpeckers are pecking for their morning meal,
an inner peace God allowed me to feel.
I gaze off into the distance and spot patches of green,
a wonderous beauty of God's holy scene.
Winds blow through the pines as their needles sway,
as the whispers of nature seem to take me far away.
New growth is popping out from under last falls fallen leaves,
as the sun beams down energy to earth's plants it feeds.
Slopping country side as far as the eye can see,
as a red tail hawk flys so wild and free.
Scouring down at the sight of a new fresh meal,
as the stench of it's prey is enticed to appeal.
God provides for his creatures big or small,
he never fails to give or in need if we call.
Copyright © Shannon tackett | Year Posted 2014
My troubles dim over time.
As I age everything gets well.
I wrote my previous story in a letter for people to tell.
In the end everything did end swell.
Eventually my troubles all die.
Copyright © teddy BArnabas | Year Posted 2016
WHY FACE IT ALONE
APPRECIATE WHAT LIES BEYOND THE SEEN
It can’t be said that I’ll always be there to support you
But know that that what it is you just have to face it
Remember you are not alone
For life is not measured by the number of breath taken
But by the number of breath you take.
Why face it alone.
I may not understand what you’re going through,
It’s not about how you make it but can you stand the test before you.
I might not be facing what you’re facing compared to what I have already overcome.
I can see that you’re not winning, don’t be ignorant to this,
I’m a friend hat you can count on me at all times.
I can’t tell about your future that would make you not realize that life is precious.
But why face it all alone.
I don’t promise you that life will be easy
But if you learn to trust me I shall indeed be you help
I make not false words against myself
But know that I’ll always be there whenever you need me.
I listened but all I heard was don’t face it all alone
But i did not understand.
Copyright © karen mathe fumani | Year Posted 2015
old man feeding the birds
he stands slightly bent as he casts
down the bits of bread
that the birds milling around his feet
devour with soulless eyes
he casts each piece like a sacrament
like an uttered prayer
his large brown coat soiled by winter
now hangs on his springtime frame
old man with his bag in hand
walks slowly along the fence line
the rubber of his shoe squeaking like a
he is amused by the thought
he feeds the birds once again
after all that is what old men do
they die slowly and they feed birds
they walk in silence like a tomb
casting bread upon the waters
like a prayer
old man feeding the birds
what old man dose not dream of younger women
what old man dose not wish he was young again
so the birds feed upon his dying wish
with soulless eyes
watch him walk into the city of night
with nothing but his loaf of bread
and a newspaper full of yesterdays stories
walking the fence line between heaven and hell
on his way to feed the birds
Copyright © mark junor | Year Posted 2015
The laugh like cry of the April woodpecker happy in the early spring,
And the dry harsh note of the Jay, awaken the forests and everything,
The dusky wings of rook’s glance in the sun, they are so timid and coy,
Chased off from sown fields and hedges by the clapper of the bird boy.
Bees soon will be seen again diving for nectar in the bells of flowers,
Making a sunshiny hum of renewed happiness so contented for hours,
Men, women and children on the landscape working hard with spring,
Ploughing, harrowing, picking up stones listening to nightingales sing.
Others rolling, bush-harrowing or cleaning the drilled wheat for bread,
Breaking the caked crust on the surface with light harrows the clay red,
Shepherds, shifting hurdles giving the flock pastures the greenest of all,
People working in gardens hoeing, sweeping leaves from last year’s fall.
Peacock and tortoiseshell butterflies amid flowers they don’t have a care,
Settling on warm grounds or hovering high above in the still country air,
Such is April with variable wind and rain with a touch of very early frost,
Nightingales around calthas or kingcups near river places they love most.
A coltsfoot shows it’s yellow flowers on cold bare lands without any leaf,
Violets both blue and white are found as sweet as ever on their own heath,
A cardamine stretches up from the margin of a moist green little hollows,
Again the clapper of the bird boy can be heard chasing off hungry swallows.
Copyright © Terry Trainor | Year Posted 2012