The quintessential
spring bird, the robin
with a cherry song
of lilting musical whistles
orange breast
and quick movements
they run across the grass
seeking earth worms
they also like berries and fruit
they roam forests, graveyards
parks, and our lawns
they do not mate for life
but find a new mate yearly
the females stay on the nest
while the males seek out food
if you put out a water fountain
they will come . . .
Around the Water Fountain
Kevin Davis 2025
"How are you?"
"I am fine, and you?"
And as usual we let it go at that.
What more can we say?
Do we talk about cutting your face or leg shaving?
Do we talk about changing your shirt because the coffee was too hot and spilled on it?
Do we talk of having to clean-up trash before we left home, Because the neighbor's dog emptied the trash that someone left out?
Or that the car was left with little gas and had to be filled?
Do we talk about the idiot who was behind schedule and was driving erratically?
Do we talk about trying to find a parking space on the street and there was none?
Do we talk about finding a spot in a high priced parking garage and now having no money for lunch?
Do we talk about the political crap that surrounds our country that is making everything more expensive?
Or should we talk about the argument with your spouse over something that was so important you forgot?
Do you talk about who won what games yesterday or the workday ahead and your plans for the evening?
Or do you just say, “I am good, and you?”
Or do you just get our drink of water and hurry back to our desk?
Enjoy today, tomorrow will come
She rolled up her piano and tucked it underneath her chinny chin chin
off the the courtyard she went to play a tune from Mama Balloon
"Absolutely not or never" said porky pig as she played shiny, to win
inside the water fountain a red cap bobbed and floated like a loon
Singing to the top of her voice every tonsil quivered as she did her gig
bass lined to the music she strolled the keys on a piano forte made of pulp
"Play it again " cried Petunia Pig while re-arranging her imaginary wig
but as the rain began to fall, Suzie stopped playing and began to gulp
Suffering Cilantro your piano has turned into nothing more than mush
said the little piglet with a tiny little bugle nose as bright as a red rose
"I got a rockjam keyboard made of foil at home" she began to gush
but all she heard was " Tsk tsk tsk" and suddenly the oink just froze
"Send out the clowns" huffed Piggly Wiggly Bob who lisped his nouns
and so Suzie with an origami thingy ma jig fined tuned a little trumpet
"Keep it coming" whooped Porky Pig and Daffy Duck painting the town
they danced to the beat of " Oh Susannah" without hurry without fret.
Yellow-Crested White Cockatoo birds
Drew foot-stomp'n rave and applause from nerds
With belief defying tricks
To draw water fountain licks
All neat'n free, with sly-o-foot slap words
the hospital corridors were as quiet as death
until loud male-sounding footsteps slapped down the hallway
I peeked out, expecting to see a doctor
I saw no one; but the footsteps were coming
click click click click click click
they stopped right at my door
a chill went through me
I thought of Mr. Eisenhower
was he okay? should I go check?
too late for that, a ghastly voice whispered
directly into my left ear.
I knew what jumping with fright felt like now.
except I was frozen, I could not even scream.
an unknown entity followed me that night
to the nurse’s station, the water fountain,
the soda pop machine, I felt it was a ghoul
not a poltergeist, not a friendly entity
I fell asleep briefly while charting.
My head jerked up as I came back.
“Better check on Mrs. McFee,” the voice hissed.
I was terrified; paralyzed with fear.
Mr. Eisenhower was okay, but Mrs. McFee had vanished.
No one ever saw her again.
a ninety-three-year-old woman who could not walk.
(For-your-thoughts) ((Many moved away
quake rushes waves ashore
suburbs are our new town today
bare main street an eyesore
the town's post office is still there
plus the water fountain
we used to flip coins in the air
penny wish amount in
older siblings, it's just for kids
that's me--oh boy--that's me
make a wish--tighten your eyelids
you'd wish for this--CANDY!
no fountain, just coins, and water
siblings passed, it's just me
I wish all were here, much sweeter))
[[--kid's, he spent his penny!!!]]
water fountain ghosts
dusty choked by COVID ropes
free water untouched
It's dusk, almost an hour from sunset
and the wood thrush is not cheery;
his melody is a whisper heard in a lot,
where he sang with others happily!
The wood thrust with auburn wings and round belly
couldn't find a stream in a nearby forest and fled
fled here to drink from the water fountain color grey
brushed by a sudden darkness that spread dread!
Sing out loud, little wood thrush and uplift my low spirit;
evening is approaching quickly with its turbid shadows,
we'll shiver thinking of the fear so frightening to admit...
oh, wait: we can alter the mood of our dreary thoughts!
I'm wondering why the wood thrush is not cheery,
has he lost all the enthusiasm for unclear reasons?
It's a phase he must go though to regain full harmony...
when despair leaves and he'll sing again with his sibilings!
We are partly into an early Spring and the horses' struts with their
heads held up. White Palominos all, majestic beauties they'd be in the
heart of the little village passing by the central square where the market
is full of life of sellers and buyers, to gawkers and talkers as well.
Nearby is the marbled-tier water fountain brimming with fish life and just beyond is the village lake, also teeming with edible fishes unlike those inside of the fountain. Edges of Papyrus and tall Cypress grass and just touching the colorful water lilies. Ahh, they've just arrived and tied up the horses so they'd be secured, here on top of the hill that overlooks the tiny village but seemingly the town life seems to have come up onto the hill, now the hill is full of life.
Oh, I forgot, the village of 'Somerset' with its old charm, thick thatched rooftops with their upper windows of English Oak, post and doorways too. Peaches, Apples Banana trees. Daffodils, daisies, roses, pansies, gladiolas, and much much more. This is truly Spring, the other seasons will be along shortly. I am here, that's why the village is here. I wanted to come home to 'Somerset' and be buried here in the Spring.
At dawn a bird outside begins to peep,
it is quietly at first- but grows loud;
twitter, twitter, chirp, chirp . . . oh, goodbye sleep,
and it is not one birdie but a crowd !
Oh, though I do love all these singing birds,
I like to listen to them and their tones;
these sweet little winged creatures need no words,
I adore their calls, trills . . . their groans and moans !
Delight to watch a water fountain bath,
gems in my garden ~~ flying here and there;
they like to eat seeds on my stone worn path,
sometimes just resting . . . on my garden chair !
Imagine this life without a bird song ?
It would be too quiet, silent and wrong !
I wish to live in a total glass house,
built on the top of a snowy mountain;
with a heated- lush and healthy greenhouse,
and lovely free flowing water fountain.
I could watch it . . . snowing-on-the-mountain,
from within my designed glass home in awe;
and view the stars sparkle and then withdraw,
the moon glowing and the sun rising high.
This glass space . . my retreat to write and draw,
where I watch eagles that glide, drift and fly.
________________________
October 28, 2022
Poetry/Dizain/Glass Mountain House
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1497-521-28
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, 2022 Poetry Marathon, Mile 18
sponsor, Mark Toney, Judged 11/02/2022
Tenth Place
i am out of butter
i am out of milk
i am out of bread
i am out of all snacks
i am out of envelopes
i am out of stamps
i am completely out of money
what else is new
i can't go to any store
i can't go to the gas station
i can't go to pay bills
i can't go to pay any tithes
i am afraid to go to the bank
i am terrified to even drive up or down the street or around the corner
i am totally out of my mind
what the hell else will give
i want to go to a restaurant
i want a mexican pizza (too)
i want that blue bubble gum ice cream
i want some cinnamon roll oatmeal
i want some vanilla almondmilk
i want to go to the beach
i want to go to the lake
i want to go to the mountains
i can't even afford to drink from a water fountain
i am so broke that even a simple kiss from a woman is cancelled due to insufficient funds
that's what i call alternative cock blockin'
now i am officially certified psycho, but such as life
i'll wake up tomorrow with a smile and my work badge
Looking forward all winter for my vacation
A three-day excursion put on by We Are One Nation
We parked our RV’S near the foothill,
then hiked and climbed top of the cliff and met Will
When the sign appeared Reggae Pon the Mountain,
we were quickly escorted to the water fountain
Come and jam to the tunes of the Marleys
Hanga-langa and check out the Harleys
The Jamaican food—colorful, soulful—sublime
One look and I knew right away I would need more time
to enjoy Reggae 'Pon The Mountain
We bought masks, jewelry and tasted the cookies
Ingredients pure, strong, overwhelmed—we felt like rookies
C’mon stay mon, enjoy the music all day, sangalanga on Topanga
You know the Canyon known for the rock-stars?
Three days of festive delight, tonight be romantic, sleep in your cars!
Our host thanked us and said Jah be with you, Rastafari
We waved as he drove off in his Ferrari
We’ll be back tomorrow for the Caribbean callaloo
where we’ll stay all day and enjoy the hullaballoo
A music festival up on the mountain
What is happiness, I just wanted to know,
Was it the song of heavy rain or the breezy snow?
Was it a dance of colorful water fountain,
Or was it a beautiful sunflower covering the whole mountain?
The spell of rainbow across a shinning stars,
Or to see fireflies in a blanket of nightjars.
I was certain that happiness is something to be earned
As I became older, all the more I yearned,
In the process, I forgot to laugh,
and it feels as if happiness is just like falling graphs
I swarmed across the river
Where I saw leaves of trees fall and quiver,
I saw myself in the crystal clear reflection
And I understood that it was always about perception,
As I was curtains of a play has been lifted
I finally knew that life was gifted,
And it is how you take the life to be
That only if you smile, the exact reflection you'll see,
The same is the case with happiness that you want to achieve,
That's when you give it, only then you receive.
The basin in the water fountain
Was completely full
With water and with pigeons,
Drawn there by a hot day’s pull.
I watched the birds all splashing,
Beaks and feathers soaking wet,
As they cooled themselves from mugginess,
Which isn’t over yet.
Nearby, a man played trumpet;
He was learning, that was clear,
Though the pigeons didn’t let
His muted bellows interfere.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.