I gaze into frosted panes.
Rose petals are tumbling
borne of hidden dimensions
where time is closed.
In scarlet gold murmurations
the starry air beams
with an iridescent delight
and choreographs holy felicitations
beyond a silver gate
of cedar pearl.
Fickle sunbeams tickle fluttering daydreams...…
Lyrical lapping lullaby encores...
Gingerly stroke sandy shell shattered shores..
Starlings spy…sky high murmurations...
Skimming stones....slicing silky sheens..
Voluptuously verdant riddles…islands within idylls...
Scattered daffy darlings..dilly dally...
Sunshine splattered chlorophyll candles...
Animosity as an ersatz monstrosity shines…
Saluting highfalutin pomposity..devouring skylines..
Notes of cut grass gloats floats from..
Middle class mowed manicured marvels..
Criss cross collaborations… surf the tailored turf....
Billiards baize ablaze with petrichor whiffs
Festooned with afternoon nana nap snores..
The radio's heavenly hum of cricket scores...
A duvet of familiar riffs...murmurs of what if's..
An inkling..whispers of summer's sprinkling serendipity twinkling..
poetry cascading
over a stony heart
gently grinds it
smooth
the rhythm stops
it's a red flag
word murmurations
have disconnected
flown the coup
and scattered
in the wind
pretty birds
pretty birds
fly home again
Before the Day morphed into Night,
a scarlet sun inked clouds of white.
And tinted the sky with its light;
a cotton candy pink delight.
Before the black birds cease to fly,
murmurations swirl through the sky.
Mesmerized, I let out a sigh,
applauding as they shapeshift by.
Before shadows merge into one,
twilight drinks the last of the Sun.
And though Dusk has barely begun,
a rising moon won't be outdone.
Before darkness slowly descends,
silhouettes merge as daylight ends.
The bogs’ their fruit – the woodlands’ leaf
embrace a ripened red motif,
as cranberries and maples blaze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.
Where starling murmurations dance
a breathless susurration trance,
ballet in blackbird-shape-shift haze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.
And neath the cumulus, the breeze
colludes with stalks in raspy tease,
unfazed we ramble maize-field maze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.
As apple-cider-sunset spills
behind the bluish granite hills,
I’m grateful for my eyes to gaze
Oh Lord, I praise October days.
When rain does bead on pumpkin’s skin
his smiling face still lit within,
I pray myself be filled Your rays
Oh Lord, I praise October days.
Do not shed tears or grieve my death;
I do not fear my final breath.
I've felt the wind tussle my hair,
and when seasons changed, I was there.
I've danced amidst falling raindrops,
and watched Nature quench thirsty crops.
I've seen murmurations of birds,
and filled books with poetic words.
I've seen a sky full of stars shine,
ate gourmet foods, and drank fine wine.
I've witnessed Day morph into Night,
crossed seas, and experienced flight.
I've walked on fluffy flakes of snow,
and observed the tides ebb and flow.
I've loved, and received love in turn,
and my heart's felt passion's flame burn.
I've lived, now I'm ready to die,
there's no reason for you to cry.
a coat of stars
on a shiny night you
wear
and thrive in #'s (almost)
everywhere
Mozart taught you to sing
everything
recite poetry
and greet those
who stumbled in
you are precious
to me
yet so hated
they patent your name
for poison
and rage
Starlicide
now
half of what you were
your murmurations
still
smoke the sky
just not here
this year
my dear
my darling
Starling
The murmurations of a wounded heart,
one's rhythm lost, alone and incomplete,
are but a silent cry for where Thou art,
regardless how irregular the beats.
The walls, once closing in and much compressed,
are now relaxed, expanding in relief;
a heart is meant for love and joy expressed,
not soured by the bile of unbelief.
Lord, calm my fears and set my heart at rest,
and send Your spirit coursing through my veins.
Fill every emptiness within my chest
till naught but that which longs for you remains.
A heart song, scarce contained, yet pounding free,
finds true delight when locked in step with Thee.
Miss Jessica Finch, the avian sleuth
Was scratching out novels and sipping vermouth.
She lived a charmed life when she was quite young;
Her first book, “The Voyeur: Peeking Duck Hung”.
“Peacocked and Loaded,” no rivals, unequalled.
“All Bluster, No Muster, “ a fan-favored sequel.
“Migratory Murmurations of a Wandering Heart”
And “Starling, My Darling,” her cross-over art.
“Covey of darkness: the Unpheasant Truth”
Shines light in glass houses, unkempt and uncouth.
The one she’s best known for, that everyone one knows
That suspenseful thriller, “A Murder of Crows.”
But the one she loves best, that still gives her pause,
The brilliant court drama, “Probable Caws.”
————-
for the A Flock of Birds Poetry Contest
sponsored by Julia Ward
written on 09/24/22
she smiles in the shadows
of the dead end street
living her rag doll life
the only femme fatale
of our mannequin town
a midnight detective
going down the low road
a butterfly at the crime scene
alone in the evening breeze
her night talk full of
wallpaper poetry
her velvety voice
singing the drunken bird songs
her troubled mind
full of murmurations.
I’m so happy I could die
lifting her veil in the storm
so let’s dream a little.
Murmurations.
.
As thickening dusk
Subdues the tiring day
Flocks of starlings rest
Trilling and chattering in array
Upon tendril branches of trees
High up in the towering eves
As numbers increase
In readiness
.
Suddenly they alight as one
The tress now bare as the eves
Of their feather laden leaves
And one of the most spectacular
And phenomenal sights of creation
Awe inspiring and fascinating has begun
.
A shifting cloud of wing and feather
In syncretization in formation
Put on a magnificent air display
That has mystified the observer
Since the dawn of time
And took their breath away
.
Swooping sweeping darting cloud across
The expanse of sky
An elaborate dance of in perfect formation
And a change of direction in an instant they fly
Athletic acrobatic nubile and agile
That few words can explain or testify
.
The acrobatics now over
The sky differs once more
Descend to the trees towering eves
To rest and to roost
Like littered feathered leaves.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
Squeaks shrieks and whistling chirps
mixed with mimicry, colourful
spotted speckled iridescent darlings
Pixilated torturous waves at dusk
mesmerising murmurations escaping the day
starlings, self-pursued sardines of the sky
flowing contorting distorting, fly.
Squeaks shrieks and whistling chirps
mixed with mimicry, colourful
spotted speckled iridescent darlings
Pixilated torturous waves at dusk
mesmerising murmurations escaping the day
starlings, self-pursued sardines of the sky
flowing contorting distorting, fly
Trees display vibrant colours that fall in a glorious, crunchy tapestry.
Fruits are ready to harvest, lush blackberries, golden crabapples, plump, purple sloes covered in their purple blush.
Prickly hedgehogs and sleepy dormice gorge themselves in readiness for their winter sleep.
Murmurations of starlings create intricate, wheeling patterns in the sky, twisting and turning in harmony.
The air smells different. Glistening dew forms on spiders webs, highlighting their beauty and strength.
Hello October, so happy to see you, Autumn is truly here.
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