Mother nature’s songs I cannot exceed
Of the Whippoorwill out in open field
They partake of mother’s bliss free of greed
Birds and their songs give of mother’s free will
Meadowlark songs of many are preferred
Though Scissortail flycatchers slice thin air
I favor Mocking bird of which I’ve heard
He sings all bird songs, I desire to sire
Mocking bird songs do surge with bird’s great urge
Whip-her-Will, he sings at night on the hill
Of Mocking bird songs , be of which I splurge
Awesome flight as dotted blades of windmill
Nature, birds and songs to springtime belongs
Nature’s spring refreshes men with bird songs
First Contest: Sonnet Me
In honor of: Sara Kendrick
#1) abab, cdcd, efef, gg
Scissortail river running low beside the road
carrying a many weightless, little dead leaf
orange, yellow parade of patchwork vessels
passing beneath the old park bridge into shadow
I join a skipping-stone hunt along with you and June
working through silt in search for the perfect one
flat, smooth, of convex form, perfect
to soar from the surface in ricochet spin
We then each one built the tiniest of rafts
made of reeds gathered from the briar and knotted shoestrings
and away they raced, most coming upon rocks and breaking up
for only mine was somehow spared and drifted on
It too though disappeared under yonder oaken bridge
leading the cluttered cavalcade of litter and foliage
I wondered how far my raft might travel, maybe out to sea
as I trudged the mile home in laceless shoes
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