A flicker of wings,
a breath of color suspended
between here and gone.
They say the dead return as birds,
hearts restless, beating too fast,
as if trying to outfly time.
The hummingbird lingers,
drinking deep, trembling,
as if it knows the flowers will fade,
as if it knows the light is dying.
And then—
It is gone,
leaving only the whisper of wings
and the hush of something unseen.
Categories:
outfly, beauty, bird, grief,
Form: Elegy
Don't let anything change you, don't let anything distort you,
Never let anything ruin what's inside you.
You have the sweetness and innocence of a child,
Don't let it go, the spark of a child.
The crazy, naughty and fun-loving,
The child within you makes you stunning.
You have everything that makes you complete,
All the traits that one would always seek.
Never let the innocent and naughty inner child inside you die,
This is something in life that helps you outfly.
Don't let anything change you, don't let anything distort you,
The innocent, sweet, and naughty child inside you.
Categories:
outfly, feelings, first love, how
Form: Rhyme
Today I fell head-over-heels in love;
beyond happiness, I'm soaring above.
Love's gentle, and yet harbors such power,
that lingers like the scent of a flower.
I thought that I understood who I was,
till I felt the magic that true love does.
I cannot put my feelings into words,
eclipsing the sun, they outfly the birds.
As my heart opened to accept love's gift,
doubts and inhibitions were set adrift.
Love is an extraordinary feeling,
lifting me to heights that leave me reeling.
I'm afloat, on billowing clouds of bliss,
embracing a dream love blessed with a kiss.
Categories:
outfly, beautiful, emotions, feelings, happiness,
Form: Couplet
BUDGERIGAR
Yellow green and a blue nose bump,
Came in a small paper bag
From a big bag of four,
Far from the warm southern sun
Streaming from Uluru to Lake Eyre,
And the distant salt scent of Spencer Gulf.
An excitement of yellow
A climax of chirping twittering then
Drinking a nearby lake dry.
Enjoying cool breezes down from the hills
On a cricket-loud night
Under the Southern Cross.
His home is with us now - a warmth of yellow,
A solitude of tears - welling and uncried.
A windowful of dampness
Obscures the smell of Spencer salt,
Swinging trapeze is not pomegranate trees
And their seeds of red pearls.
Clock tick silences the kookaburra laugh.
The clock is wrong -
Even the seasons are reversed:
Summer crickets are now winter icicles.
A frozen heritage -
He can outfly a diving falcon
But wire bars replace his southern stars.
No memory of swaying in swelling
Clouds a million strong.
A plastic mirror shows him he’s a bird.
..........................................
Categories:
outfly, bird,
Form: Free verse