Best Flitters Poems
Since the elders often proclaim, my how time flies,
You then naturally look up into the skies.
To study the heavens for at least one small sign,
From the horizon up to the tallest tree line.
Then suddenly, a flock of birds flitters about,
So you believe that you might have time figured out.
But when the old people mentioned, my how time flies,
They didn’t bring up birds; so is time in disguise?
As a carnival balloon, yes that’s it, you say,
Like the vanishing kind on a bright summer day.
But losing your own, is one of life’s biggest fears,
Since you don’t want to waste any time crying tears.
It’s possible that time is commuting by plane,
Which is surely the fastest speed time could attain.
But what good can that be when the planes out of sight,
Unless it quickly returns from its roundtrip flight?
Then is waiting around to see time such a waste,
When each day there are many affairs to be faced?
Then out of the blue a helicopter is seen,
And you reflect, maybe time is on that machine.
But as soon as a copter is here it’s gone by,
After noisily chopping the beautiful sky.
Although it’s very unlikely time takes that ride,
Unless it cannot hear, or ear plugs are supplied.
Wait a minute, I got it, time surfs over clouds;
If I could do the same all my friends would be proud.
And occasionally time would appear as rain,
But then an excess amount would go down the drain.
Then could time be a portion of air all the time,
To be breathed in, or to give life to a wind chime?
Though, is that really flying like old people claim?
It seems all my guesses are exactly the same.
Well, after a long life of thinking and trying,
To figure out the ways that time could be flying,
In heaven, by feather, or motor, as vapor,
Yet, not one of those ways can be proved on paper.
Until recently, when I looked in the past,
The answers were there for those time questions asked.
That time really flies, though it takes time to see,
That a lifetime of living, is the real key.
And now I tell the young, that time truly flies,
But don’t bother looking up into the skies.
Time earns its wings every day, inside the mind,
And can only be seen, when looking behind!
David Fisher for Impress Me-Iambic Meter Contest
Philosophical motif
"the willows dip
Their pendent boughs, stooping as if to drink." William Cowper
To a Weeping Willow
The graceful, sweeping green
I remember seeing it,
my first weeping willow
graceful trails of leaves
bending to touch its own reflection
Growing on a creek bank thick with grasses
I lay there in the soft tufts,
dreaming, staring up at clouds
watching the zig-zag flitters
of a butterfly.
Now days never seem so long
Wherever its pure tapestry reigns
in fragrant gardens, wherever
they take root; on creek-beds
sometimes by a charming bridge.
Weeping Willows have become for me
symbols of long peaceful days
I stop to gaze at them in gardens,
in paintings, in books that picture them
my hand lingers on the page
Beside a lacquered pond they still
touch their own reflections
with long, whispering trails
Once, in a dream, I saw one
with pallid catkins,
on a lonely promontory
beside a forgotten grave-
an echo of grieving.
Suzanne Delaney
Butterflies flit around her garden
Landing a midget of a second.
Startled by every movement
Dashing away at all sounds.
Quivering with excitement.
Beautifying the lilacs,
Sprinkling themselves among the zinnias.
Savoring the knock-out roses.
Increasing the aura of the garden
Whispering their sincerity in butterfly flitters.
A new day gleaming
A new chance for dreaming
A new sense of revealing
Love and light
The flitters like a butterfly
Within us all
A new chance to show our love to all
A new hope and new opportunities
Lifting our spiritual frequencies
A new day for our souls to glow
In the luminescent light of spiritual fold
A new way, a new life
This is true every morning that we wake
Not every day needs to be the same
We just choose to live it this way
We can change it if we wish too
We can choose each day to be renewed
In a new way in anyway we crave
Choose a path and then be on your way
To a spiritual journey that favours the brave
A life of discovery through the art of perpetual change
Or do the same routine each day and stagnate.
Written: August 25, 2023
________________________________________________________________
Midnight's Ink unveils,
Loneliness penned in moonlight~
Silent confidant.
Revealing secrets,
Ink bleeds, bares my deepest thoughts~
Moon, my only friend.
Midnight's sparkling dance
Moon glimmers, sea shimmers bright~
Wave flitters, night glitters
Whirling in a haze,
Woozy daze dizzy muzzle~
Life's wild, tangled maze
In the dark of night the whippoorwill cries
As it flitters beneath the night’s blue sky
Master of camouflage. Heard, seldom seen
Is searching for woodland insects to glean
Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! The nightjar trills
As it glowers and swoops down for the kill
Insects traversing the forest take heed
For the mottled bird has tremendous speed
It nests on the ground, it perches in trees
It’s gray-brown plumage the color of leaves
Up at dawn, at dusk, and on moonlit nights
Brindled bird rests with the coming of light
Tiny bird with a magnanimous shrill
Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! The nightjar trills
Behind the elaborate mask I wear
You are a tempting sample of wine
Beauty to behold, your face serious
With a dazzling smile, girlish delight,
With the most enchanting looks
that would melt the coldest of hearts
You are exquisite, warm, beguilingly innocent
The list is endless...
When I see you now,my heart flitters
and now more than ever,
I crave for your glowing angelic presence
Happy Birthday!!
A butterfly flitters graciously in the sky,
No barring or fortress claiming its path, forever why.
A butterfly owes nothing of money or fare,
Its light of existence, foregoing superficial care,
The beauty of a butterfly, great meaning here on Earth,
A universal symbol, signifying rebirth.
A butterfly so beautiful, held in the palm of your hand,
Many put together we call a butterfly wonderland.
Do you think the butterfly knows of their magic in our lives,
How special for which they contribute, a midst no compromise.
A world they freely travel, without walls of resistance,
To admire and love, upon centuries relentless.
A butterfly I’ll be, instead of expecting world renown,
For my entrance in your world , surely never to be let down.
ancient redwood gleams
softly through the mists of time…
mayfly flitters by
-08 Jun 2014-
Average Lifespan:
Redwood Tree - 600 years
Mayfly - 1 day
A song to sing
With a hither and a dither
A mighty river
The troubled brows of people pour
Blinkers, tinkers and many non-thinkers
Flood rushing down washed up shores
A surging roar!
A song for sure, we should not endure
Soaring high in advancing thicket
A lone wren strives to sing
Perched on a metal birch
But the traffic still thunders and the wren is ignored
And she must continue her search
Cease that din!, she has a song to sing
She flutters and flitters and scolds
Emitting high pitched squeals
Ever more raucous and shrill
When all seemed lost
And if by chance
There came a witching sound
Thrilling rounds of booming trill
“Oh! what joy!, I have a song to sing!”
That dawning morning
Dressed with a new found glory
She called with a hopeful “Churr, churr, churr”
The message, swift and clear
A statement for those that chose to hear
That gleeful “Churr, churr, churr”
“Hear! Come near, I have a song to sing”
Her music made and sounds of warbling notes were heard
Drifting, Floating
Warming winters breeze
The reply came quick
“What darling rhapsody, come fly with me”
“Fly, let's fly away please!”
“Birdie dear, we have a song to sing”
They stayed for a while
Breast upon breast and a small caress
United in harmony
They now have a new song, all of their own
Stronger, louder
A rapturous symphony!
“Fly, my love, we have a song to sing”
Four wings flapped, upon the current
They didn't eavesdrop on the bubbling chaos named din
Not any
Their chorus, resonating ripples of promise
Embraced every grim nook and cranny
Near and afar, they had songs to sing
Warm days herald in the spring
as she dances among young flowers
the mating call strong adds its ring
soon nestlings, calves and beavers
grow strong as she swirls past dancing
Hot flush of summer vibrant flowers
greet summer as she flashes past
in haste in case her time she flitters
falling in love a dance spell is cast
Autumn slowly following does
a dance most stately performs
she prances and flaunts on tiptoes
her stage is the forest platform
Winter grim and bleak in marches
her dance sometime very sullen
with her icy fingers she clutches
when she lets go you are heartbroken
On very rare occasions they come together
and dance around in joy of sisters united
oh what a time they have as they caper
forgetting the many times they have feuded
written 09/28/2013 by Shadow Hamilton
contest A Season's Dance
A speck drifts in the wind blown hither and tither,
Briefly settling then takes to the air once more.
Now a charged particle thanks to the storm,
It flitters around like a beautiful butterfly.
Travelling the world at the whim of winds
visiting Australia, Asia and Africa on its way.
The frozen plains of Europe weigh it down
As it mixes with ice that freezes it hard.
Drifting aimlessly northwards, it, then
picks up the gulf stream still heading north.
Finally over the Shetland Isles it comes
to rest, Oh the tales that it could tell us.
Now it adds richness to the thin soil
here spring plants will take a grip
and burst into wondrous blooms
all due to a small mote of dust.
Woven, high between bare branches
rooks nest gather where new growth sprouts
amidst the stillness inside me.
A tiny blue tit twittering,
flitters towards a coconut,
feeding the stillness inside me
The sky, open, glistening blue,
white clouds sailing, a seagull soaring,
through the stillness inside me.
A purple pansy perfect as the stillness inside me
until ............
people came
knocking, ringing, wanting
Then the stillness was gone.
Swan-like in grace and beauty divine.
A heaven sent Angel with wings so fine.
Sent with a message from God above.
Peace, hope, faith and eternal love.
Angel of light, ethereal and calm.
Serene in spirit, causing no harm.
In her heart she believes and firmly trusts.
Friends and family come first as a must.
Sadness is lost to laughter and caring.
Like a butterfly she flitters between comfort and sharing.
Giving hugs and advice to all those in need.
A happy companion for all in deed.
Hope shines through al her acts.
The sky is the limit regardless of facts.
Vibrant, alive, her heart sings with joy.
Overcoming all obstacles and negativity is destroyed.
A true representative of Heaven above.
Flying around with glorious white doves.
A woman of wonder, good and pure.
A luminous being, of that I am sure…..
Warm summer afternoon
Seven Ravens
from Sycamore tree
descend
one by one
landing on velvet green -
As Butterfly
flitters away -
Free