Short Martins Poems

martins in mud cups
morning song of birds echo ~
priest saying Matins...

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Swallows and Martins,
Passerine birds so graceful;
Aerial by wing....

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Martins
cartwheel in flight
swerve,dive and then alight
to layer nests beneath the thatch-
in spring....

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Adhered to the eaves where house martins hatch
Spiders cluster to a weathered straw hatch.

American doublet form...

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re-post inspired by unwanted contest

Adhered to the eaves where house martins hatch
Spiders cluster to a weathered straw hatch.

AdelaideCrapsey American doublet form...

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I saw the Purple Martins in flight
They swooped and dived to my delight
There was not enough Martins to eat all the mosquitoes
Those squitoes left ate breakfast for free on me...

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We went on holiday,this past week
For rest and recreation,we did seek;
Creation,fellowship an abundant grace
Here,martins also found a space,
In the eaves,they with us ,shared this place...

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The martins cartwheel in flight,swerve then dive
and suddenly
alight upon
the moist 
mud,
beaks
filled full
of mortar,
to layer nests
that cleave seamless beneath the hanging thatch....

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IN TRIAL TIMES

Paddle!  Paddle!!  Paddle!!!
Paddle your pirogue down the valley
Even when your moment seems heavy
Spring to life in tasteless tingling time
Only the gritty nibbles with the rhythm of time.


© Martins Tomisin 2016...

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flora washed clean  
by torrential rain
extinction event

one inch of rain
in one hour
fledglings starve  

my eyes wide open
watching helplessly
mass extinctions real

swallows swift martins
gone at my location
the sky washed clean



...

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a trail of scurry
as if martins
had flown through the house

voices
thatpushallthewordstogether
you swing

lampshades
and make it all

film noir

shouts from a
mouth of cloth

so when you are as
empty as grail
but have no space

ypu understand
there is no sense without passion...

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warmth floods over me
when blue flowers are climbing
sage red rose timing

sitting on the stairs
in sweet caress of warm winds
gold noon never ends

sitting among scents
under lemon chiffon clouds
in butterfly crowds

soaking saffron sun
as purple martins sing soft
wealths of rich gold caught...

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I never asked you to dance 
in the moonlight
by the pool of St. Martins statue.

I never saw you
sweep your hands
over the plains lovegrass
of a dewy field,
making them bend with you
and against you.

I never asked
what was your
dancer’s name.

You were a dancer
a lifetime ago,
before the babies 
came, grew 
and were gone....

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In hues orange, pink, red, teal and purple,
the sunset skies look quite unique tonight,
to laud this hour of summer eternal-
pretty as the purple martins in flight!
Each hour's new, though they go in a circle;
And I'm thrilled fate put me here for this sight.
Early, eager moon, remembers cream clouds,
Coming to soon fade, like the floral crowds....

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I have just seen and heard
20 to 30 small sparrows
and house martins and even a robin or two
singing their little hearts out
from within their safe prickily bush
then I came indoors
and watched them drinking
and splashing , in the shallow glass tray
I had placed
under the bush for them.
blessed be the start of my day.


Elizabeth alexander              1/2/2016...

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A ship sails upon coolly placid waters,
Into the sunset of many pastel colors,
Reflected in patches on deep blue seas,
Quite matching the skies' royal blue!
In the days of sun sea color and wind,
Into a hued horizon, soon it will blend.
Freedom and joy are not too far behind,
As purple martins follow warmer seasons.
Sun yellow to peach to orange pink red,
Drifting to sweet dreams on a watery bed!...

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Out in the open
on a very tall pole,
sunk into cement -
an expensive birdhouse,
designed for Purple Martins.

Mister Bluebird sits
atop the house,
guarding, watching,
while his lady works,
building her nest.

His presence causes
the Purple Martins
to pass on by, seeking
another place to build.

Twelve compartments,
eleven of them empty
except for wisps of straw 
placed in each, warning -

this house is taken!...

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A diamond sun lit up the azure skies,
And there was color in emerald fields,
Fragrant flowers in every hue and size,
Perky dabs of solar radiance revealed!

The beaming smiles were in the garden,
Just past the golden hour of the day
Of chianti sunflowers. Purple martins
Fluttered among the vibrancy at play.

It was peaceful, scintillating Sunday,
And speckles of color were everywhere,
With water lilies and singing blue jay,
While day moved toward sunset unaware....

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