Flower petals droop
Broken beneath the soft touch
Of winter’s last snow
the warmth of Spring
blows away
the Winter wind
Glittering tear drops
Fall from upturned radiance
Snow begins to melt
pollen…
a gift
from puckish flowers
a sunflower
pinning the park
to the city
behind
Saint Michael’s head,
moonglow
new Moon…
my turn to watch over
the stars
suddenly!
the hummingbird
is gone
the falcon surveys
his kingdom
from the highest branch
at least 20 geese
floating on the river
towards the morning
Rapid yellow buzz
Blossoms give up their nectar
For precious honey.
Chirping in the air
A gathering of spring time
All is cool and fresh.
Drinking in moisture
The little rain cloud is filled
To water the grass.
Gleaming feathers preened
Head and shining bill held high
Away floats the duck.
Morning dripping sky
Splashing puddles gathering
Waiting for my boots.
Chasing through the woods
Silver illumination
Can’t escape the moon.
A basket of pups
Snuggled together as one
Sleepy mound of joy.
that seagull
flying with the kites
has no string
the daffodils
gawking at
the still-brown grass
my outstretched arms…
waiting for the wind
to take me away
alone in bed…
remembering
the smell of him
misty sunrise—
in the corner of my eye
the dancing Graces
Yellow daffodils
Kissing a diamond-blue sky–
April Afternoon.
My clumsy footsteps
Scare away a woodpecker
Hunting for breakfast.
Not to be outdone,
The robins join the chorus
Of crickets and frogs.
With two loving hands
The sculptor offers the Moon
To a lonely world.
Complete reverence
As the poet paints the lake
With a seasoned pen.
The little beetle
Feminine in name only.
Spotted black and red.
Is it too early
To dream of ocean breezes
And sand-covered feet?
Brilliant morning light
Shows crystalline on the world
Till the grass comes through.
Flowers shed their dress
The seeds too seek out new homes
And fly with the wind.
Weightless blossoming
Whispered breath from hopeful lips
Wishes blown away.
When the crumbs take flight
Feathered motion interrupts
Shatters glassy suns
Tiny flying lights
Like stars come loose from their dark.
Magic in the night.
A sleeping robin
On the dying maple tree
At the edge of town.
Like a tired ghost
The Spring Moon yawns into view
Over the placid lake.
The rhythm of Spring
Pulses throughout my body
Each time my heart beats.
On a cloudless night
A mother’s hushed lullaby
Wakes the sleeping stars.
I often wonder
If the green of the forest
Would make a good home.
A lovely rosebud
Still wrapped in cheerful ribbon
Facedown in the rain.
