Short Windowsill Poems

Windowsill love song,
The mariachi crickets:
Serenade the night....

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A roseate glow
fills the jar at the windowsill--
The rays of dawn...

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Have the thrill
To do God's will
Instead of watching life pass
By the windowsill!...

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aloe
may soothe small cuts
and abrasions but is
great on your windowsill or in
gardens....

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The snowflakes drift upon the wind
And settle on the windowsill
But also on the winter winds
Comes the sting of winters chill...

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yellow daffodils,
a bee visits each flower - -
raindrops on the glass

written 4th March for Constance's Nature haiku contest...

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A dozen pretty tulips
  grace her chateau
Ten yellow daffodills
  on her windowsill

Eight bright-red roses
  in a floral vase ~
Tickling her nose
  queen anne's lace...

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I left my window 
open every 
night but you never came

to the windowsill 
like you always promised 
you would 

and it's not 
that I mind really but did 
you forget?
...

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Hurting and wilting.

Silent.

Indifferent.

Boring and never moving.

I am a flower on a windowsill.

People are kind to me.

But I am lonely.

Because flowers don’t have friends....

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Listen to poem:

thunderstorm approaching
coffee cup in hand
with bated breath
i await the sign
you are there
within my reach
and all will be alright



AP: Honorable Mention 2021

Posted on July 13, 2021...

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a green garden snake
slithers in the apple orchard 
mother crys

rooster puffed chest pride
caged birds lay hollow eggs
fox father red eyed
pies baked on the windowsill 
long shot gun in the shed...

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Margaret's fingers clasped and still
white wings upon her windowsill
silent doves that came to rest
sleeping now upon her chest
each settled bird that came to land
will fly no more from Margaret’s hands
...

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Bought myself a cactus plant
With flower on the top,
Such a dazzling orange
It seems phony, like a prop.

Set it on my windowsill
So light and air will fill it;
Wonder how long it’ll take
Before I start to kill it....

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I awoke this morning, in a depressed frame of mind.
The Sun not shining, the weather unkind.
My cover lay upon the floor, the room was quite a chill.
A cross looking Robin upon my windowsill.
I think I'll sleep in....

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Reflections of dawn
     
                 hued on a windowsill canvas-
           
   Sun peeking through morn’
        
                         as the hazel light meets with fawn.



January 12, 2017...

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Old jars on the windowsill,
collect the dust from arid days
when the sun beats down on them,
making labels fade away like
memories of long ago when hearts
were younger and the logos were
brighter and easier to read....

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A mockingbird sits on my windowsill,
Eyeing the shelly beans I am cooking
He snaps open and shut his sturdy bill
So intent is he in his window peeking,
He fails to see the black cat sneaking.


written July 8, 2021...

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Time and enough world. But we had
memories came, which lace at ends;
weaves that space 'tween callused derma.
Evokes at it's windowsill dust
particles. Life, I cry out.
Our story would take another;
falling into love was enough....

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Midnight:
     The gentle patter of each drop unfolding on my windowsill.
Morning:
     The smell of freshly fallen beads like diamond glitter upon the grass.
Thunderous: 
     Where the clouds hold notority but cry tears pure and plain....

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Windmills
standing still
no wind
empty windowsill

minds 
at sleep
a death
of another time

heartless
flowers that never grow
no wine
tears fall silent

fragments appear
shooting stars at night
dispersed onto the dark
windmills of my mind...

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The fog thickens
streching up and over
the edge of my mug
leaning on the windowsill
draped in wool
waking slowly
A deep breath
to rid the morning frost
From my chest mixing 
with mint green
and honey
so sweet
remembering your eyes on me
lifts the fog...

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She is called Little Princess
And the reason is very plain
Her charming personality
Is her claim to fame.

To sit on a lap is to feel pure bliss
But beware!
For you may feel her kiss.

A windowsill becomes a palace throne
Upon which to watch her family grow....

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I learn to live
with the silence.
Thoughts echo
in the empty house.

I transform your room
into my space,
place
candles and shells
on the windowsill. 
Your books are still
on the shelves –
old friends
who keep me
company
and speak of you.

August 13, 2018...

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Benumbed was all focus
Each element that descended
Within my wake
Mirrored a distinguished display
Of carmine cloudbursts and vanilla memories
Whilst I gazed above the windowsill
Though each and every existence
Defines the epitome of significance
Now and infinitely forevermore...

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rosy redbird skies
wednesday wind tosses tulips
plump pink peonies

days greener than green
wren visits my windowsill
magnolia scents

springtime's come again
with the snapdragon fridays
memorable hues

scarlet saturday
the red roses in full bloom
peach sunshine falling...

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