Best Seasonssound Poems
The nights are still and quiet,
Until you listen to the silence.
It's then the parts that make the whole
Are clear for ears to hold.
Like cream from milk
They separate and give us
Something to savor,,,
Each are ingredients in the recipe
That makes the sound of summer.
A dog is barking in the distance
As a pack of coyotes yip and run.
Leaves are rustling softly,
In a rare and short-lived breeze.
Neighbors are outside talking,
But, their words are distant chatter.
Now, laughter tells me they are happy.
And then, a truck drives by,,,
His radio plays an oldie I remember.
The underlying sound of crickets
Chirping can be heard.
They taunt the birds that chase them
All the day.
Their song doubles as a celebration of life
And a challenge for tomorrow.
Light flickers from the window
And TV is the cause.
I can't make out the program but I'm sure
That she'll soon call.
I hear the back door opening...
The winds have turned tempestuous
Gold and scarlet trees whip and sway
Our feet scurry through the leaves
Finding shelter under the porch
I lose my direction in the clouds
And fill the void with new dreams
Summer's dust is banished...
Cleansed by sound of raindrops
I exhale as you stroke my hair
There is something new in the air
The sound of it comforts me
And I lean back into your arms
You take my hand, and open it
Then lift it up to your lips
With a delicate kiss
Soft as the rain that falls
You lead me away from the view
A sweet honeysuckle fragrance
Is coming through the window
Afternoon slips gently away
And while the sun goes to relax
And is coupled with the moon
We find our lost springtime
In a fall afternoon
Inspired by Catie's "focus on syllable" contest...
I miss happy sounds of our summers like:
Firecrackers crackling over my head,
The crackling sounds of marshmallows toasting,
My Daughters kite rippling in the lakeside breeze,
Fisherman’s stories that go on boasting,
The sound of sticky aloe vera peeling of my Hawaiian shirt,
I miss the steady clicking sound of my reel,
And the sound of the caryatids as barbecued chicken is roasting,
What do you hear my granddaughters?
We hear butterflies landing so softly on the flowers
and the sound of blowing bubbles; we love, also, to hear them pop!
Birds are singing their own special tunes yet they blend as a well rehearsed choir.
The hummingbirds darting from flower to flower—why do they so like Red?
The ice cream man is coming we hear his familiar tune!
Chalk makes a delicious sound as we drag it across the driveway
in our first attempts at art.
We hear our own squealing voices as we run through the sprinkler, the cold water
hitting our warmed skin.
What do you hear my grandsons?
We hear the rustling of leaves as we climb the ladder to our tree house
and the growling of lawn mowers next door.
Our dogs are barking as they revel in the extra attention received when school is out.
The strange croaking sound in the evening comes from our resident frog—named Fred.
Bees are buzzing in the lavender plants; time to go inside!
But we hear dad’s BBQ sizzling as fat drips from steaks on to charcoal.
The sounds of our sports: basketballs thumping, the crack of bats as we make home runs,
if only in our imaginations.
The best sound we hear," Let's go to the beach and have a picnic!”
Many years ago it was said that children were to be seen but not heard!
Dawn of spring, of thaw and flowing streams
Winter may still hold the reins of a year in icy hands
But spring is moving in quietly and gently,
An overture, an orchestra warming up
A symphony of awakening
The air is filled with expectancy and hope
In the stillness of the morning
Listen to the gurgling sound of water under ice
Listen to the seed pods of the creek bank's giant ash
Drop with a clicking sound upon the melting snow.
Above the pool, a chipmunk hurries over the snow like a yellow streak
Like a child drawing a crayon carelessly
Over a sprawling sheet of white
In this pause before spring, this preamble of song
Look for that delightful country hour
Ushered in over the voice of a redwing's flute