perching sparrow bird
migrator bird in winter
calm dark blue grosbeak
rose breasted grosbeak
a beautiful visitor
pleasant arrival
Heidi Sands
5/5/22
Snowflakes taking rebirths; transforming into flimsy shapes,
Melting then, commemorating momentary landscapes...
Flying high; skating, skiing, tough throw of stony snowballs;
One never gets hurt, yet, as though bathing in feather-falls...
Inner warmth and outer chill; frozen nights and melting days,
Costume changing nature's tentative transfiguring ways...
Surprise-filled advent of friends, like whimsical rain-drizzles,
Snow bunting, geese, waxwing, grosbeak and owls play in mizzles...
Midst shorter days and longer nights, indoor games go endless,
Though trees and plants stop growing, vegetables fill countless...
Flocks of migratory birds flying like floral designs,
Snow foxes and hares fashion-parading in rare sun-shines...
Each scene of winter is, indeed, like heavenly wonder,
Missing these might be the most monstrous of human blunder...!
12 January 2022
Winter Wonders Within Nature Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
Mint leaf season vortex gilds sylvan glaze
vivid hue a scented purple ground mist
citrus brume float locus in dewdrop phase
cherry orchard fruit shoots hearthrob wish list
Gold grosbeak pecking ryegrass fare at dawn
scarlet tanager an oak tree crown rite
wet mallard feet drag bird seed round my lawn
flush choral plume behind the hedgerow sprite
Triumphant March of mother earth womb pearls
airy infant whines elate our senses
green sea tides that flurry sunlit moss curls
hub of nodding reeds a ripe consensus
Zeal infuses luscious pastures growing
spring fount heralds jubilance a-glowing
Sponsor : Constance La France
This poem is a sonnet.
SPRING NOTES
I don’t ask for the meaning of the song of a bird
or the rising of the sun on a misty morning.
There they are, and they are beautiful.
Pete Hamill
Spring
((tanager)) ((cardinal))
notes, each branch.
((robin)) ((bluebird)) ((bunting))
Tiers of colorful confetti.
((oriole)) ((grosbeak)) ((chickadee)) ((kiskadee))
~ Virtuous Winter covered in blue ~
((goldfinch)) ((kinglet)) ((sunbird)) ((crow)) ((thrush))
~ Snow angels spread their wings in hatch ~
((dove)) ((nightingale)) ((lark)) ((swallow))
Choir all the rave, dispatched, after long retreat.
((warbler)) ((wren)) ((meadowlark)) ((sparrow))
Greenery at its peak, beaks held high, majestic conductor.
((grossbeak)) ((tit)) ((jay)) ((kingfisher)) ((bullfinch))
Sweet songs of longing, life, death, in the warmth of the sun.
2/17/2021
SPRING BIRDS
Sponsor: Constance La France
Visions, above fluffy white clouds,
I would have as a bird,
And spy upon the fairy crowds
That frolic among stately pines.
Eat milk, cheese and honey,
Fly round elves and the Queen that shines.
On to the beach littered with tents
Oh if I were a bird,
Follow games and summer events.
Love children playing in the cove,
Bring on spades and red pails
Build fine sand castles in a grove.
Back to the hills to croon again.
Oh if I were a bird,
I'll join my friends sing on the plain.
A choir of melodious song.
A lyric of grosbeak,
Thrushes, robins, we'll sing for long.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
18 October 2020~
Writing Challenge - Tercets - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Placed 2nd tier
Wasps and bees and grasshopper knees waiting to sting and scratch,
Give them an inch and they respond with stings and holes to patch.
Wren and finch and grosbeak syrinx waiting to burst with song,
Give them a glance and they reply with lusty sings-a-along.
Frogs and toads and mud puppy legs waiting to pump water,
Give them a push and they react as diving sea otters.
Snakes and asps and burrowing bugs waiting to slither back,
Give them wide berth and they will leave without a bold attack.
Deer and ‘possums and red foxes waiting to eat our ware,
Give them a snack and they return for the evening's fare.
Stings or scratches, beauty or song, part of Nature’s lessons.
One must learn to live with all and how to make concessions.
Not long ago, one midwinter day
The sky was bright blue, not dull winter gray
It lured me out, from my hiding place
For a welcome but needed, much change of pace
Heel-hound in tow, we made our way
into the woods, that clear winter day
The old path we knew, still cloaked in leaf
Lost gold dropped by, last autumn's thief
Hardwoods were sleeping, silent and bare
Fresh winter jasmine permeated the air
Large hawks were watching, small critters play
Each was enjoying their warm winter day
Through woods, through meadow, then 'long the creek
The harbinger song of a distant grosbeak
A rare flock of turkeys ordinarily at bay
Dropped in for a visit on that winter day
As the day and the sun, began to tire
My companion and I, headed for the home fire
Relaxed and refreshed, no longer blase'
We owed it all to one warm winter day.
1-9-2019
Sweet you look in warm rain
Peeling the soil for chocolate chains
Recalling Vincent van Gogh
Inklings of green mailbox
Nestling molecules of paradise
Greeting us in the melting ice
In the flute of your green wood
Soft Grosbeak in the neighborhood
Comely you look
Oomph in your brook
Mystic whisper in the air on your moonflowers
Images of dreamy hours
Nectarous noise in our hemoglobin
Green and pink touches you offer umpteen
Shadows of your strawberry stories
Oleander glories
Open the boat’s door
No more desolation, quick pulse of footfall in the silken shore
___________________________________________________
19 March, 2017
He tries again to situate his grosbeak
nose beneath his spectacles.
He twists the silver toothpick in his teeth
and hunches now a little more toward her,
saying “Listen, dear, I’ve said all this before,
and now I'll say it all again.
Perhaps this time you'll listen:
“You’re slovenly and gross. Your jowls
swing beneath your jaws like testicles.
Your mammoth breasts need tweezing.
Your freckled calves are carved of lard.
These things are true, my dear.
They’re not some crazed
vision of conjecture.”
The lady belches as she reaches for
a pickle spear, a slice of cervelat,
and begins to comb her yellow hair.
She hunches now a little more toward him,
saying “Listen, dear, I’ve heard all this before.
What’s happened here is eminently clear.
You no longer love me.”
Donal Mahoney
By the frozen creek in the woods I seek
Solitude. The bleak leafless oak trees creak
In the wind. So weak is the light. The meek
Yellow grass blades peek through the ice. A streak
Of white frost. I speak not a word. Grosbeak
Pecks. The blue jays shriek on the lonely peak.
January 5, 2017
For contest Rhymers delight - Internal Monorhyme
Sponsored by John Hamilton
2nd place
Husband and Wife on Hassocks Eating Sausage
He tries again to situate his
grosbeak nose beneath his spectacles.
He twists the toothpick in his teeth
and hunches now a little more toward her,
saying “Listen, dear, I’ve said all this before,
and now I'll say it all again:
“You’re slovenly and gross. Your jowls
swing beneath your jaws like testicles.
Your mammoth breasts need tweezing.
Your freckled calves are carved of lard.
These things are true, my dear.
They’re not some crazed
vision of conjecture.”
The lady belches, reaches for
a pickle spear, a slice of cervelat,
and begins to comb her yellow hair.
She hunches now a little more toward him,
saying “Listen, dear, I’ve heard all this before.
What’s happened here is eminently clear.
You no longer love me.”
Donal Mahoney
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