The sweet smell of
Spring in the air
Heaven has spoken
As the birds sing I hear
Cardinals and robins
Wrens all so brown
Nuthatches and sparrows
Flying all around
And the crow in
A far away place
Caw caws so loud
Puts a smile on my face
Serendipity’s sweetness
A pleasure as well
Spring flowers blooming
A blessing to smell
Cardinals and nuthatches
Sing in the morning
Serendipitously in unison
Unhinged with no warning
A motionless conductor
As I sit in my space
Melodies arrive equivocally
Put a smile on my face
Gods garden of glory
So much noise to take in
I close my eyes with pleasure
As the crow starts to sing
And the hawk up so high
A whistle to his ring
Contributes to the chorus
In his own speechless way
In suns warmth in morning
A precious way to start a day
jar of nuthatches
grace a green valley garden ~
scrunch of rubber ducks
3/14/2022
Contest: Bird Haiku
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Used HMS
*a group of nuthatches is called a “jar”
**Green Valley is in Arizona
Summer skies are colorful delights
As fireflies light up our warm nights
The full moon shines clear and bright
A relaxing, peaceful and serene sight
Goldfinches, and nuthatches are out
Happily eating seeds and dancing about
As crows and hawks circle around
Watching for prey on the ground
Peonies with their saucer sized blooms
Bees busy feeding landing on plumes
Hummingbirds fighting for feeder nectar
An entertaining show of feisty collectors
Late evening after all the traffic’s gone
A loon is heard with its eerie mating song
The leaves rustle in the fragrant breeze
As the songbirds quietly nestle in the trees
Morning sunrise peaks in hot pinks and light blues
Perennial flowers blooming in all colors and hues
Sitting outside with my coffee and no place to go
I sit back and relax and enjoy the magnificent show
8/12/2020
Contest: Nature Rhyming Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
C is for Cunning Clowns
L is for Laughing Llamas
O is for Optimistic Octopus
W is for Wonderful Whales
N is Nice Nuthatches
To lose our songbirds would be so tragic,
for their tunes hold a special magic.
And nature’s music unburdens the heart,
providing ebbing souls with a jumpstart.
The robin's chirp heralds the melting snow,
as the goldfinch serenades the meadow.
And in the spring, flocks of chickadees sing,
nesting near houses to rear their offspring.
Blue jays and nuthatches tweet from the trees
as woodpeckers rat-a-tat-tap with ease.
And crimson cardinals tweak overhead,
while tufted titmouse whistles are widespread.
(Rhyme)
2/16/2019
The little house mouse said, “Isn’t it a shame,
How the tufted titmouse has stolen our good name?”
The titmouse could not refrain as she shook her pointed crest
To answer in disdain, “You’re nothing but a pest!”
“The titmouse comes from a proud family and perhaps by now you’ve guessed,
We’re related to the chickadee, we fly with the very best.
We’re also kin to nuthatches, but we have a broader tail.
While the mouse just sits and scratches, cross the skies we sail.”
The mouse was caught off guard, so embarrassed he could die
Until he thought real hard and came back with this reply:
“The house mouse is a mighty creature, having a feature incredible and rare,
He can put a hundred and thirty pound teacher on top of a chair!”
For the accountant, the librarian, on this cold day
there is no revelation. He will go his own way
to the roar of the tinnitus in his ears.
About our war what is there to say. Yesterday
a flock of bluebirds was the only color in the woods.
Have they arrived too early for their good?
Of Judith and Inanna I have Korf's fears.
Inanna is generous, Judith is dangerous.
On each the wise elders depend for sustenance,
protection. Agriculture is sexual
and wars end when men remember cunnilingus.
To savor the young woman's thighs and the old one's food,
to water her womb and cut her wood.
Is this not what's real, the actual, the animal?
The women I have known were bluebirds and crows, such
nuthatches, cardinals, robins, an occasional thrush.
They did not consider their bodies holy,
they found my seduction easy. What good luck
on the bed, in the light of the land, in our youth.
Our enemy eventually becomes our brother,
his misery lifted by coming to her city.
They say Tuesday's child is full of grace
I would say that it's a disaster.
There are two events I don't embrace
That make Tuesday a glum downcaster.
Tuesday's the day, in most of the States
When they hold primary elections.
Where we extract from a few inmates
Our "favorite" bad selections.
And as if that wasn't bad enough,
We not only pick the nuthatches,
The second Tuesday of every month...
The release of Microsoft patches!
Now, I know pols are needed so that we can have laws,
But, I wish Bill Gates could patch D.C.'s intellectual flaws.
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