Playground for the waterfowl,
Other creatures swim there too, like the fish and frog.
Not a place for humans to swim, because it's gross!
Delightful to watch nature's daily dose.
he grew up like anyone else
he was just the same
except
he was blest
to know the name
of the black and white seabird
with the blubber layer
and when that bird went down
he said a prayer
there was no sound
none
that anyone could hear
but
he felt the Secret Penguin's presence near
it's true
that waddling wonder was never found
that polar pirate
had gone underground
not to swim with the whales, sharks and fishes
but to continue to fulfill
children's wishes
those who had expected to see the last of him
had been reduced to so much
chum
smarter
than any other kind of waterfowl
he was wiser
than a great horned owl
the world
would see his vengeance reign
the Secret Penguin
was back again
He grew up like anyone else. He was just the same -
except, he was blest to know the name
of the black and white seabird with the blubber layer,
and when that bird went down, he said a prayer.
There was no sound, none that anyone could hear,
but he felt the Secret Penguin's presence near.
It's true, that waddling wonder was never found.
That polar pirate had gone underground -
not to swim with the whales, sharks and fishes -
but to continue to fulfill children's wishes.
Those who had expected to see the last of him,
had been reduced to so much chum.
Smarter than any other kind of waterfowl,
he was wiser than a great horned owl.
The world would see his vengeance reign.
The Secret Penguin was back again.
Cooler breezes give us relief from the stifling heat,
A signal autumn is coming, and summer is in full retreat.
Leaves on the trees turn yellow, orange, red and brown,
As the days grow shorter, they eventually find their way to the ground.
As temperatures continue to cool, animals prepare for the cold months ahead,
Birds, reptiles, and mammals make ready for longer nights and shorter days instead.
Diminished daylight triggers an internal clock,
Signaling waterfowl to fly south, virtually non-stop.
Monarch butterflies commence migrating to their winter home,
Flying thousands of miles, their wings beating in cadence to an internal metronome.
As days pass, daylight shrinks and nighttime expands,
Driven by the earth’s voyage around the sun as we have come to understand.
As the outdoor world starts changing, all plants and animals adjust,
Preparing for the formidable winter ahead is a necessity, a must.
Plants start dropping seeds while animals gather food stores - their pre-winter haul,
It’s that time of year again, a time we call Fall.
Slowly floating down the
stream, the waterfowl glides
seamlessly along the
surface of the lake, its
soft, silky plumage, and
slender form, gracefully
sailing into the sun.
Birdwoman wore eagle, robin, osprey and owl.
In her hair, with a certain flair
Hummingbirds, swifts and waterfowl
Making their nest in her lovely hair
Birdwoman sported pelicans, penguins and egrets too
Wearing them proudly, none of them too loudly though
Nightjars, hornbills and beautiful jays of blue
Morning dove, blue footed boobie and silly dodo
Birdwoman wore her feathered friends with pride, to and fro.
She’s their protector, people said with reverence and awe.
She took them everywhere she ventured, don’t you know.
She loves cardinals, frogmouths, and a simple jackdaw.
lake, black waterfowl -
on bare tree; wings akimbo -
comorant
NOTE: I did get a video on my not-so-good cellphone
(c)Deo, Nov.13, 2021
The river looks calm and inviting,
a natural gift of beauty.
Waterfowl inhabit to feed and nest.
A gateway shared by creatures,
dangers hidden beneath.
The river is beautifully calm and serene,
its powerful dangers are often unseen.
Currents can swirl hidden from shore,
tragically become be a drowning door.
A natural resource to respect and admire,
a gift of nature that will never expire.
Unique with brackish water properties too,
with legends of sea creatures venturing through.
a white egret soars
diving into spawning fish ~
a river regale
9/5/2020 (edited 9/6/20)
Writing Challenge - Nature, Four in One
Sponsor: Constance LaFrance
waterfowl party
ducks quacking to swimming acts~
a webbed conference
So, I still
have miles to go
and poems to save,
and time to rant and rave
and snort and shout
and let it all hang out.
I’ll fuss and fume and
act the part expected, ad hoc.
I'll smooth the rankle from my brow
and darn the that hole in my sock.
I’ll lie in bed and contemplate
the path of man, his ultimate fate.
I’ll awaken to the sun at dawn
with rancor as I begin to trim the lawn
and spread some seed for the birds,
the waterfowl and the fawn....
And at dusk with my bride by my side
will close my eyes for that final ride.
CGH 10/13/2018 at 3:58 pm
Thank you God for this wonderful poem.
All I had to do was write as you dictated.
It doesn't matter that your waters are not clearly blue.
And that I cannot see what treasures on the bottom lie.
Nor do I care that your shores are not pristine,
But are marked with litter and refuse of men.
It only matters that despite the foolishness of some men's ways,
Your waters still abound with fish and waterfowl.
And it matters too that your shores are filled with life,
Of birds and trees and and small animals that run around.
As I sit and watch all that the river has to give,
I am so thankful that she has the ability to overcome,
The foolishness of some men's ways.
Be calm, exhale and listen to the whispers of the night,
Softly speaking tonight,
Is it your lover calling?
Or a shooting star falling,
The kiss of a wave against the shore,
Or the quiet closing of love's door,
Could it be the shivering of a child?
Scared by some imaginary wild,
Wind' s quiet rustling of autum's leaves,
Over where a trembling mouse breathes,
A lover's whisper in your ear,
Reassuring you they are near,
West wind blowing over a plain,
Bringing a soft springtime rain,
Sit quietly and hear the whispers of the night,
Softly speaking tonight,
The cricket, a whip-poor-will and the owl,
A far away coyote, a bat or waterfowl,
Or perhaps just Earth's simple sounds,
When no one is around.
Footbridge spans water.
Japanese garden waits you.
Waterfowl live here.
Footbridge spans water.
Japanese garden waits you.
Waterfowl live here.
(Written about 2005, as a sonnet, but I cannot recall why I used 13 rather than 14 syllables per line. Maybe Petrachan? Forgive me if it fails the sonnet test.)
For My Wife and Daughters: STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS
eighty percent water in me wants unity here
oscillating in bones, gurgling words in my bloodstream,
verging on vigorous waterways, my own river
converging dreams, I take our daughters to park and stream
few, if any, waterfowl and fauna peek at us now
tiny tributaries of separation bring dirt
now, even in spring, the waters are still running low
no flowers or flora frolic between sky and earth
we inhabit deltas of exuberance, then the freeze …
shallows of calm showed my girls sunfish, pebbles galore
abounding like diamonds in my land of jealousies
now, as streams in the world begin to slow, run shallow
I am one in the God of all, born of Africa
my daughters’ bloodstreams murmur songs of America
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