Best Mayfly Poems

MAYFLY

I’m shadow’s child,
grown on the lake,
by women on their own.
The reedy cattails, 
and brown mud pots, 
occupy my time.
I’m taller now, 
and skinny too,
like some...

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       so how was your life
  yeah i was expecting more 
      ...

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If I were a mayfly, living but for a day, 
I’d still live each moment with no thought of goodbye, 
Ever hopeful like summer in...

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Of all of the beautiful seasons, I like summertime the best.
As with blooms, greenery, and bird talk, it is richly blest.

When comes dazzlingly warm weather,...

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*** COURAGE ***

To wake up.
To stand?
To step out.
Avoid thinking 
    “can’t” and “but.”
Surrender worries
     into the hands of...

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Mayflies
by Michael R. Burch

These standing stones have stood the test of time
but who are you
          ...

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Our first kiss
was a deathless Mayfly.

Ten years onward, we sit
in a Doctor's waiting room
as sniffling strangers.
She smells of baby-puke.

Sometime later,
she tries to sell me a...

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Here We Shall Remain
by Tawfiq Zayyad
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Like twenty impossibilities
in Lydda, Ramla and Galilee ...
here we shall remain.

Like brick walls braced against...

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Summer’s golden blade does thrust
its effervescent golden musk,
and into  wheaten fields’ did trust,
a volley of  ethereal rust, 
caught by tempered, evening gust

Cart and...

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ancient redwood gleams
softly through the mists of time…
mayfly flitters by

-08 Jun 2014-

Average Lifespan:
Redwood Tree - 600 years
Mayfly - 1 day...

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My bells, are shared with you,
At the ringing  in of the taut day
And the ringing out of the mayfly

The bells, brazen, lucid, warm,
Silence the...

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THE SOLOIST

The Universe sang itself into being, 
and we are one of it's songs.
It laughed mischievously at black holes, 
that were hidden in massive throngs.

It...

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Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch

I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.

This...

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ephemeral beauty
of a  mayfly goodbye-
spring's end is nigh...

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If I should find a Butterfly, 
Neath the Willow tree, 
I’d recall how she’d been an ugly bug, 
But now a wondrous, sight to see....

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