Best Hummingbird Poems | Poetry

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New Hummingbird Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Hummingbird poems are below this new poems list.

the hummingbird morning by Gupta, Probir
Horn Hummingbird Poem by Horn, James
The Flower and the Hummingbird by Barden, Gregory R
The Flower and the Hummingbird by Dietrich, Andrea
Hummingbird - A Collaboration With Janis Thompson by Daniel, Jo
Hummingbird - A Collaboration with Jo Daniel by St. John, Sian
Hummingbird Comsumate Me Kiss The Lips by Lee Sr., James Edward
Hummingbird by Rodeheaver , Julie Leigh
The Hummingbird by Ibeh, Edward
Dream on hummingbird by Volo Von Wolfenstein, Ph.d

View all new Hummingbird Poems

The Best Hummingbird Poems

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Once Upon a Purple Sunrise

Once Upon a Purple Sunrise

Pretty as a Periwinkle,
in your frilly summer frock,
the one with purple polka dots
that matched the cool of early dawn.

Haloed in hazy lavender hue,
I'll always remember you;
running bare-foot through
the corn fields still wet
with translucent drops
of fragrant morning dew.

The scent of damp, fresh grass
lingering on your waist-length, 
ebony braids, that wrestled free
of their crimson satin ribbons,
floating away in the pale blaze 
of a new day, riding on a gentle breeze.

Your childish giggles drifted
through rows of raspberries bushes,
a look of total wonder reflected
in your bright smiling hazel eyes,
innocent as the wispy grey clouds,
that awake with the surprise
of a transient glowing sunrise.

Where did you come from, 
Little Sprite, with your 
mischievous deep dimples,
cherry-stained cheeks and lips?
Even gazelles would be jealous
of your long, lithe brown legs, 
graceful as a swan's,
gliding in casual slow motion.

Carefree as a hummingbird, 
hovering in suspended animation,
you were lost in the beauty
of your own song. 
Did you forget me,
waiting for you with 
finger sandwiches and sweet tea?

But that was okay –
it was your time to wander
in an ocean of wild yellow daisies
that needed to sprout
in your youthful heart…
take root and grow
in your memory forever.


02-17-2018

Best New Poem - 2/20/18
Poem of the Week 2/25/18 

Sponsor:     Silent One
Contest:      Sunrise and Sunset
Placement:  1st 


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2018


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Broken Wings

As the sun arose in the eastern skies 
a fairy princess sits rubbing her eyes.
Yawning she glimpses her magical isle 
and her tiny lips, curl into a smile.

Standing she stretches in her treetop bed,
anxious anticipates what lies ahead.
She flutters her wings to get them ready,
raising one knee, she jumps slow and steady.

Hovering like, a hummingbird she glides
then races off with both arms at her sides.
With lots to see her day has just begun,
she never stops until the setting sun.

Racing through the forest over fields of wheat
smelling the flowers, is her daily treat.
Talks to the butterflies this sunny morn,
tests the fresh honey and tastes some sweet corn.

Spotting a pond sparkling like a mirror 
zooms back and forth each time getting nearer,
watching her reflection, no time to think
crashed in a deer who had just stopped to drink.

Later discovers she’s broken her wings,
Lies in bed knowing what carelessness brings.
Six months of bed rest was taking their toll,
this fairy princess was losing her soul.

Finally the day came to test her wings
her will is determined her heart now sings,
shouts out with joy as she reaches the sky,
nothing feels greater, than when you can fly.

Iambic Pentameter 
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
01.14.2015
Contest: Sketch a Fictitious Character II


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2015


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Hummers Joy

.
                                                   Tiny
	                                          Little
                             Hummingbird, O how
                                                   You
                                               With your 
                                              Emerald wings
	                                 Inspire the imagination
	                                Set our minds free, And give us wings
                                      As we flit and dart through pine scented sunshine
			              Gathering dreams, singing a new song
		                      As troubles melt away
		    	              And the joy of living
				      Returns  to us
					 With every
						Heart
	                                           beat
						         A
						         New
						             World
  							  Unfolds to
							    Embrace us
							        With love
							               And
								         Joy



Copyright © Trudy Diane Rider | Year Posted 2009


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I dream of you (to JEW)

What shall I see when I see a picture of you 
Frame against rainbow of eternity?
I dream of you ... upon the canvas of my heart ...
Will your eyes melt the sonwflakes, do they
Like the sea glisten with the glow of hidden pearls
Are your ears to be the promegranates of my tongue
And how shall your lips taste to me?
I have dreamt of sweet pineapples, or mangoes
Or some cool sweet thing red with passion
Inflaming the skin
The first otaheite apple of the season.
When you smile, do your lips move like a palm
Slowly yielding to the joy of the wind
And shall dance from sip to sip a hummingbird
Longing to enter the deep throated flower?
I want to see you delicious as happiness
To hold you inthe perfect pear of my heart
Where sunrise lingers long, and night is like a song.
My spirit longs to cuddle you and build my nest
Upon the cushion of your brimming breasts.
O but the night has long, long miles to cross
And spirit glees while flesh counts the distant cost.




Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009


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The Butterfly Flutters By

The Butterfly Flutters By
On a steamy, sun-drenched, summer Sunday, tree leaves delightfully dancing to the tune of a warm, welcoming, wandering breeze blowing, metamorphosis now complete, no memory of being yesterday’s creeping caterpillar, the butterfly flutters by.
Blatantly, brazenly, boastfully, showing off beautiful, brilliant, blue-black and brown wings, gracefully gliding through a breathtaking, glorious garden, the butterfly shyly pitches from blushing, boldly-colored, buds to fragrant flowers, cunningly outmaneuvering a competing, hovering hummingbird.
Slyly snatching a satisfying taste of tantalizing, syrupy sweet nectar from attention-craving, Golden Flame Honeysuckle vines, the butterfly flutters by cheerfully and completely satiated - perhaps, already dreaming about tomorrow’s anticipated sugary feast!
05-25-2014 Contest: Highest Views (08-30-2015) Sponsor: Casarah Nance Placement: 10th Contest: My Last Contest (02-17-2015) Sponsor: Kelly Deschler Placement: 4th Contest: The Butterfly Flutters By (06-03-2014) Sponsor: Kelly Deschler Placement: 3rd


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014


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Hot Day

A steady hum vibrating one constant low
Surrounding me in tiny hummingbird beats
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow

The fuzzy sound vibrates on pulsed in it’s drones
All vision blurs dimly in dark shadowed heat
A steady hum vibrating one constant low

The yellow window’s shade drawn down indigo
Gaze at it’s outline, with my hands on my feet
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow

My round Papasan chair of plush wicker holds
My languid form as I relax there complete
A steady hum vibrating one constant low

Within the dark, my lap cat’s bright green eyes glow
I’m clothed only in my silhouette’s repeat
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow

Reflect in beta waves of calm peace I know
On blue walls, my fairy outline shifts and beats
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow





Copyright © stephie pendleton | Year Posted 2006


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In the Harem of the Flower Kisser

at the break of dawn a Hummingbird starts his rounds Morning Glory sought flaunting a red hue - Mexican Sunflower tempts looking hot, hot, hot the Don Juan of birds sucking nectar from Beardtongue. . . drunk on French kisses Goldenrod at noon. . . Zephyr carries a sweet scent beneath a gold sun between Rose bushes the Flower Kisser gets lost in Blue Infinity Sweet Pea and Bee Balm entice with purple petals. . . Bees join the orgy Monarchs swarm in droves when blue Hummingbird alights on Butterfly Bush Evening Primrose waving in the dusk’s last breeze. . . the proper lover the Flower Kisser leaves his harem sated as white Moonflower glows *The capitalized names for flowers represent some of the most popular flowers visited by hummingbirds.


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


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Welcome Spring

through the open door
across my room sunlight spills. . . .
robin redbreast trills

the scent of blossoms
carried on April’s warm breeze. . . . 
our first hummingbird

among red flowers
where my daughter twirls her skirt . . . . 
a butterfly flits

in late afternoon
laughing in our garden spot. . . . 
a bluebird singing



Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


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Till My Poems Are, no More

I bequeath to you my poems,
For words are all I own--
May the images of snow and fall
Bring you comfort when alone.

And I will leave you all of it;
The moonlight on the moor--
As well the quiet, leafy wood,
Or a sunbathed distant shore.

And among the rhyme and imagery;
The metaphor, and theme--
You'll read of rose and morning dew,
Of midnight naps, and dream.

And somewhere in between the lines
The fantasy turns real--
So take these words I proffer you,
And touch, and taste, and feel.

Amazing are the things you'll see,
Like the ivy-covered wall--
Or the icy streams of diamond
And the spill of waterfall.

So enchanting is the moonlight,
So too the autumn breeze--
Oh how I'll miss the butterflies
And the stand of ancient trees.

So precious is the lily pond,
The wildflowers too--
Take comfort in the song of rain
And the pansies playful hue.

How amazing is the hummingbird
In uncertain, frenzied flight--
Reminds me of the dawn and eve
As they argue, day or night.

And in the valley of the glen,
Where stands the steeple church--
There remains a knee-high meadow,
And a lovely stand of birch.

So Immerse yourself in wondering,
Set your spirit to the sky--
Behold as children, puffs of cloud;
The bee and butterfly.

And let your palette taste the wind,
Hear the quiet of the snow--
While delighting in the jasmine;
The sweetest scent I know.

Take my words and nurture them,
Kindly revel in my dream--
And keep alive the buttercup,
As well the mountain stream.

May you sleep the night, and linger;
That my dream may carry on--
Give life to every word and thought
Till the images are gone.

May you celebrate the beauty;
May you open every door--
Till the sun is swallowed by the sea,
And my poems are, no more.

~M





Copyright © Mel Merrill | Year Posted 2014


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I dreamt last night of you and me

I dreamt last night of you and me, your lips so soft I kissed We floated on a silken cloud, drew rainbows on the mist Then counted daisies in a field and when your smile appeared I gathered up a sweet bouquet that whispered in your ear Made love upon a mountain top, the snow was pure and white Then marveled at a hummingbird its tiny wings a’ flight We rode inside a trolley car up hills and over dales Setting forth to distant shores with paisley colored sails Caught moonbeams in a Mason jar, and poured them on our skin Then there neath jealous fireflies we made sweet love again Set dominoes in a straight line and laughed as they did fall Your evening gown and brand new shoes were perfect for the ball We caught a flight to someplace near, yet is was also far For when we landed once again we stood upon a star That’s when I heard from listening to someone passing by This evening now came to an end I thought that I might cry But when my eyes did open to your beauty as my view It mattered not what I had dreamt, my dreams had all come true


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016


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In Anticipation Of You

Peering around the edges of the yellow-orange sky dancing under cover of the morning mist gently you tickle my cheek whisper good morning my love onto my once shut slumbered eyes greet me with your perfect smile leave me breathless in wake of your beauty and remind me of why why my mornings are brighter why it's great to be alive The hummingbird flutters out in the meadow sucking nectar from the most beautiful wildflower and my thoughts turn to you and to us our last night kiss how you gave to me your heart butterflies flutter inside of me and I know be it slow or fast racing to your arms or just waiting my heart beats in anticipation of you


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017


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Buildin' Birds

Buildin’ Birds…

Your hands dart and weave
In, out, up.. then hover
Swoop right… then left

As simply as sight 
Of a birds dreamy flight
Floating to perch proud on rocky cleft

Subtle magic’s paint
Concept, thought to Action
Life wrought from death

As eloquently as the Master 
Reaches out from the hereafter 
And grants the unborn gift of breath

Chaos now cornered
Seeks out surge, hands direct
And collar by will

And just as Angels acting
So precise, measured, and exacting
Leave scarce a ripple on waters still

Trumpet Grande Crescendo 
Labors love ushered in 
A diamond from primal smolder

A new winged gift to grace us
Snatched still in pristine stasis
To soar in the eye of the beholder



(Narrative)
I wrote this poem after peeping through the doorway of my wife Nancy’s workspace as she 
crafted her beautiful bird sculptures. I was utterly amazed at the delicate movements she so 
gracefully employed to wring creations that seemed to capture a split second of nature so 
completely as to cause the beholder the illusion that she had somehow stopped time. 
Literally, a hummingbird caught between the beats of its wing for one to marvel at.  Of all 
Nancy’s creative endeavors I still rank her “Buildin’ Birds” as her paramount artistic 
endeavor.


Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010


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Hummingbird

Still, I wait.
Alone, In silence.
Listening for your whispering wings,
hoping I will hear them sing.

At last you motor past,
and briefly pause-
checking to see that you are safe,
rapidly fanning the ambience,
filling the surround with vortices
that suspend you statuesque,
without a fainéant feather.
I know you see me,
those dark eyes opened wide,
never blink.
Yet, you are unafraid.
Or, maybe hunger rules your reason,
checking flowers of the season.
You hover slightly back,
and then decide
to probe the flower for what’s inside.
Sweet nectar…Elixir of life.
You lap a little as hummingbirds do,
and then you stab another two.
Then, purr closely past my face,
Darting to another place
having had your tiny taste.

Now retire to who knows where.
A bird must have a nest somewhere.
You’ve earned a respite for your wing.
Next time, maybe, will you sing? 



Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2013


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Beautious Hummingbird

Tiny
Trochilidae
Beauty.

Long beak,
Sucking nectar 
You seek.

Rare sight,
Humming softly
Delight.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.27.2014
Contest: Whispers of a Muse
2nd


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


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Seek Elsewhere Death!

She,
hung a,
Hummingbird,
Feeder near the,
Window of my room,
So I can look outside,
See life again as God's gift,
And raise my broken spirits up.
She doesn't know how much she gives me,
But I vow to live because she loves me.



Copyright © William Kershaw | Year Posted 2010


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Poetry Forest


Come my beauty, I am the voice of the forest,
      Just take my mossy hand and come my dearest;
With love you will be embraced by emerald vines,
            Listen to the birds sing, oh what a sweet chorus.

And in ancient towering trees the wild wind whines,
      On hanging branches tangled moss falls and twines;
Let us take this path, see the sage unfolding ferns,
            Not far, my dear, a creek bubbles like sweet chimes.

Come my darling, be careful of those wild rose thorns,
      A colorful bright hummingbird twirls, swirls and turns;
To hear my whisper, that has always been your "choice",
            I know you love me,  since childhood this love burns.

The forest is within your heart and I am the sweet voice,
      And in your dream dear, I called and you came by choice;
You love my green deepness, my peace, and tranquility,
            So until it is time to wake, be still and just rejoice.

__________________________
April 30, 2016

Rubaiyat

For the contest, Poetry _________ Fill in the Blank
sponsor, PD 

Third Place 
 


Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016


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The Dark Green Conifers

another day in the woods. on Strawberry ridge
looking out over undulating green hills to
the next great wall ridge of mountains. the last
morning clouds left from last night's storm
hanging in the valley mistily. the sun eventually
burns them away.

the respect between old Paul Karlsen and I continues
to exist. even though he's a Mormon and I'm a fallen
New Yorker. the work is comparatively easy, lifting
hundred pound bags, so you can just imagine what
we do other days. in fact, it's fun, especially for
young Bates. we get all white (and our lungs dusty).

on the way to and from the work site I read
in Silent Spring, the chapter against herbicides, gathering
inspiration for the upcoming controversy. in the end
perhaps I'll be fired for refusing to lay down Tordon
beads. realizing this, as I drive with Bates,
I see the dark green conifers and begin to miss them.

                              Rocks and rattlesnakes, bluebells
and mountain daisies, grasses and cactuses, mahogany
bush, lodgepole pine and quaking aspen, lush forest
and dry sun-tortured mountainside, wind and seed
carried by wind, ants, streams, hummingbird
and hawk, deer, badger, ground squirrel, wolverine.







Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015


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Mother Earth

Mother Earth awakens, in subtle pastel hues
Aspen leaves flutter and quake, shaking off the morning dew
Morning stirs, and Hummingbird wings whir and trill, just out of sight
Columbines dance on a pine scented breeze, solely to their delight

Mother Earth enjoys the day, basking in suns glow
or splashing in the rain showers and watching flowers grow
Whispered secrets on the wind, ancient wisdoms to impart
keeping silent vigil, she hears them stir within her heart.

Mother Earth lays down to sleep, bright colors paint the sky
evening shadows blanket her shoulders, as she closes her eyes
Pine trees shush their lullabies, and usher in the night
the taste of dew hangs in the air, as stars begin to light


Copyright © Trudy Diane Rider | Year Posted 2009


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Greatest Love In Effigy: A Pantoum

His eyes always see the beauty in my heart. An ugly duckling is the way I think of me. He paints me as though I am a lovely work of art. I'm not dainty like a hummingbird or a honeybee. An ugly duckling is the way I think of me. I've never considered a mirror to be my friend. I'm not dainty like a hummingbird or a honeybee. This man loves me and he has been my Godsend. I've never considered a mirror to be my friend. When he looks at me I see such love in his eyes. This man loves me and he has been my Godsend. When I'm in a sultry mood he tells me I'm his prize. When he looks at me I see such love in his eyes. He's the man I adore; my greatest love in effigy. When I'm in a sultry mood he tells me I'm his prize. My love for him is deeper than fathoms of the sea. He's the man I adore; my greatest love in effigy. He paints me as though I am a lovely work of art. My love for him is deeper than fathoms of the sea. His eyes always see the beauty in my heart. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ March 25th, 2016 ~ Pantoum Contest by: Eve


Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016


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Early Morning

Smoke slowly rises off the still charred embers from the moonlit campfire from the night before. The grass glimmers in the morning dew chilling my shoeless feet as I walk to the banks of the shimmering stream hoping to catch us a couple salmon on their way to spawn I sit on a big rock and cast my line across the way I spy a hummingbird fluttering peacefully from flower to flower Croaks from frogs echo in the air as they try to stay cool from the now rising sun splashing it's heated rays down upon us I haul in a couple of keepers and head back to camp toss another log on the fire string up the fish to smoke crawl back quietly into the cozy tent and cuddle up close to her.


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015


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I Wish

I wish, for a moment—I could vanish,
like a dream dreamt not to last,
so that ones that dream of me
would falter and wonder
where has she gone?

I wish, that I was a hummingbird 
buzzing in and out of sight,
that only observant eyes
and special hearts
can fly with

I wish I was the color
of your favorite thought,
waning and growing 
with swelling light
bent on a candid smile 

How I wish—and ever more,
that I could be just as I am
and take that little bit of sand
of what we seem to be,
and turn it into something vast—
something true, and welcome


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016


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Eyes of the Orient


Oh, mercy ...

Amazing eye whites, perfect and pure as glacial ice - they draw me in, like
diving into a clear Caribbean lagoon, fluid and cool ... brown iris so dark in contrast that they're lost in the inky black of pupil, but striped here-and-there
with gold flashes that shear the dark, like streaks of yellow orchid on the back
of a jaguar, residue left from a jungle pursuit ...

(Fast - bright - dazzling!)

The softness of the single lid, so warm, like the plush of a blanket, as oriental
as the cap of snow that winks its way over the slopes of Fuji in Autumn ... at
their supple edges, the most delicate and diaphanous of lashes, wispy
black feathers that flutter like the wings of a lunar moth, drawn to the warm
blue light of the moon ...

(Rare - slender - gossamer!)

Lashes that quicken the thrum of my heart with each batting, and frame the
most enigmatic and mysterious objects that a gentle, beautiful face could
ever hope to brighten - coy and abashed ... porcelain skin, soft as the breath
of a hummingbird, painted by the hand of sublime Creation - an opalescence
as flawless as the giggle of a child, and as divine as lotus blossoms skipping
on a spring mistral ...

(Lithe - lustrous - seductive!)

Hair blacker than than the void, with a hint of blue lustre found so rarely in
nature, perhaps in the mane of an Arabian stallion, or the iridescent skin of
an Ethiopian - misty and tenebrous ... with a shine and depth almost magical,
and a texture that invites the digits to explore its depths and lengths - parting
bangs, gently raking through to the back of the head, sweeping to bare
shoulders, sifting down the back and further ...

(Smooth - contoured - electric!)

So long and straight and sinuous, flowing like a waterfall of inky dark silk,
liquid tresses splashing playfully off the curve of the back, accentuating
those limpid surfaces - molten and libidinous ... I have dreamed you a
thousand times, and a thousand more, I have imagined the starlight dusk
alighting on your form like fireflies, the sparkle in the expanse of your eyes
like moonbeams peeking through the willows, as they waltz to the music
of the wind ...

(Vivid - fluent - gleaming!)

Oh, but how the dance of your eyes shames all else, the willows in their most
soulful weeping can not add measure to the allurement of your gaze ... the
sky of twilight, in its deepest dreams, is but a sad distraction to the wonder
of your aspect  - intense and burnished ... the near incomparable glistening
of the moon, even in its most perfect rising, does not hold equality or rite to
the enchantment of your vision ...

(Catching - holding!)

The precise prismatic fire of the most perfectly cut diamond, could not hope
to bewitch the mesmerizing spell that you cast with but a glance of your
eyes - enigmatic and entrancing ... they say the eyes are the windows to the
soul, but I believe the eyes ARE the soul, and yours are as deep, mysterious,
complex, and carnal as any I've ever known, with a fathomless acumen that
penetrates my defenses with ease ...

(Enthralling - hypnotizing!)

I am helpless before your sight, as vulnerable as sand before the tide, and
easily as swept away by the current of your beguiling charms. Your eyes are,
to me, the very definition of all that the word "beautiful" encompasses - 
elegant and ravishing ... they are as the most immaculate lotus blossom,
floating on the onyx black of a mountain pool at dusk, rippling with emotion
and sensitivity, and pulling me inward to their sublime perfection ...

(Helpless - forsaken!)

I leap from the edge of my insecurity, and dive into their liquid exquisiteness,
falling down, down into their prurient expanse, to be consumed by all they
wish to be, (falling - diving!) ... consumed, by all they want of me, by all they
see in mine, by all that they bespeak, by all that YOU ...

Desire.



Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017


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Momentary Pleasure

Momentary pleasure is like a hummingbird touching on a rose Written Aug. 29, 2016 for the One Quote Poetry contest of Rick Parise


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


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In Flight

Gentle are this afternoon's random rains, that water the garden's blooming flowers. Still one hummingbird ignores the showers. Life travels through its delicate veins.  Suspended motionless feeds on planted nectar, harmless, unimposing, all thrust no vector. My tearing eyes lit glowingly, in awe I observe attentively          this miniature bird moving quietly. While silk wings flutter invisibly, his straw draws food continually.  A brushed mystical blue  with stroked green sure presents a marveled view of God's fairy creature. Flitting to and fro above land. Diminutive and grand this alluring, this flying miracle!
18~10~2014 Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich Contest Name: The "I Do Not Know" Poetry Form Contest


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


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A Tapestry of Dreams

Dreams I've strung together,
Of the Robin on its wing--
Interwoven tenderly
With yarn, and thread, and string.

The redolence of summer
Mingled with the winter breeze--
The image of a starry night,
Of flowers, hills, and trees.

A picture on a naked wall
For everyone to see--
Visions of the hummingbird,
As well the honeybee. 

A lively pattern on display
Of hope, as well regret--
Recollections in tranquility
Of the things I can't forget.

The things that I have noticed,
Although tend to overlook--
Like the autumn leaves first falling,
Or the babbling of a brook.

Designs of places unexplored;
Of dawn's triumphant beams--
T is a woven bit of majesty:
A tapestry of dreams.



Copyright © Mel Merrill | Year Posted 2014