Peonies and cannas are blooming along my walk
While birds are tweeting messages to one another,
I suspect the small animals are taking care of young
A newborn spring fawn stays close to its mother.
I am certain the newly built Robin’s nest has eggs
And I see the chimney swifts chasing insects on wing
The sounds of spring are delightful to my hearing,
Even the chimes on my neighbor’s front porch ring.
A fox is scoping out a flock of chickens scratching
The peace interrupted as a crow begins to squawk,
Signaling to the banties and biddies danger is near
I spy overhead the silhouette of a red-tailed hawk.
A simple life includes the sights and sounds of spring
The joys of a walk through the meadow in the sun,
Pleasures derived from a lifetime of love for nature
Anticipating good weather and a hot summer’s fun.
Written May 15, 2022
Categories:
banties, animal, bird, flower, nature,
Form: Quatrain
Nothing cooled the jets of Charlene Banties
Not drink or water hose from her aunties.
Sticky by summer’s night
Sweat master by daylight
Summer sun kept her wet to her panties.
Categories:
banties, humorous,
Form: Limerick
Mountain soften the gawp of sun
far beyond the boondocks,
where the fog plays in stillness,
‘fore the banties arouse the glade
When life came to Bottom Land
bare feet stomped common paths
Between the tall oak trees
echoes stood for seconds,
as tiny voices cartwheeled
from hanging rocks that bite into the dell
The Good River lend a hand, Big Sandy,
to water the Bottom Land,
three acres that fed nine mouths
and satisfy our bellies
When the snow turn up,
and pile high on the new year,
like cotton on a mule cart,
Pap wore rags to keep his toes;
we count ten in early spring
When God send Roosevelt and the WPA,
Pap wore cow hide boots like men ought to
The log cabin was heaven; we lived like gods
In winter, we listen to the hissing of burning
fir and pinewood, and Pap’s alluring hunting tales
Ma’s fried-green tomatoes and cornmeal pancakes
were more than quails falling ‘fore Mt Horeb,
and Pap was more than Moses,
We loved more than Israel,
far from the isle where milk and honey flow
Categories:
banties, childhood, father, mother,
Form: Narrative