.post-body entry-content { margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }

Thursday, May 21, 2015

The First Buttercup

It's gray and cold out;
Should I leave or should I stay?

New birds fly to eat;
Their wings flutter differently;
Struggle to ascend.
 Bent over in gray
She becomes part of the field
Near the grazing cows.

The first buttercup
Unveils its radiant face
And shines on the sky.
Some forsythia
Don't hear the call of summer--
(They think it's still spring.)

The three reflectors
Bending back from each other
Like a hand of cards.
 Roadside virgin land
Bursts a thousand shades of green--
Yerry Hill tundra.

Dripping with yellow,
Myriad blooms opening--
(Just a roadside plant.)

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

An Ocean of Green

It's late in the day--
Only inertia moves me;
The warmth and sun call.

The light is different;
It's starting to go to sleep.
I will wake it up.


 Chipmunk on the rock
Hiding in the bushes
Becomes a statue.

"Have you heard the news?
There are now new baby chicks"
(Contagious wonder).

Heat or the journey?
Which one stopped this creature's crawl-
Dead in its own tracks?


Poised against the tree
An ancient man sits asleep.
(Maybe it's a rock.)


An ocean of green
Where there was a field of white--
Miraculous woods!


It's hard to hate squirrels
When they lie crushed on the road,
Not stealing bird seed.

Monday, May 18, 2015

A May Houdini!



A balmy Spring day--
Lilacs and the clouds compete
For subdued pleasure.

Small purple towers
Have sprung up in my side lawn.
Where did they come from?

Green ferns, white flowers
Flourishing next to my house.
Just where have I been?

On soft misty days
While birds chirp incessantly
Insects tease my eyes.

Hanging in mid air
Green caterpillar wriggles--
A May Houdini!


Insects all around;
What is that taste in my mouth?
Grapefruit or a bug?

Bird shit on front porch;
(The price of my feathered friends);
A speckled Spring treat.


Lilac aroma
Hangs on my kitchen table
Above the purple.

Spring rain is coming;
The gray clouds portend the news.
Oh Alleluiah!


White, yellow and blue:
Dots among the blades of grass;
My front lawn palette.

Winter twig and branch
Undergo a Spring cleaning.
Endless farmer's work.

Conversation floats
Down to the gray and still road
From house on the hill.

For a million years
These ancient ferns survived
As green as today.

Even its hard shell
Could not protect the turtle
From the rushing car.

Weeding and talking
Soft strains of community
And meaning of life.

Friday, May 15, 2015

In My Nose's Eye

The promise of rain
Still remains to be fulfilled
This very dry Spring.


Perfume from lilacs
Mixes with freshly ground coffee
(In my nose's eye).


Sitting on the seeds,
Two birds sharing the feeder;
Some feathered gourmands.

 There are more sounds now:
Bee hum, woodpeckers, bird cries
And buzzing insects.


Forsythia blooms
Now paint the roadside yellow.
Dandelions leave.


 White fluff by the road--
Animal or vegetable?
(Did the rabbit know?)

These tiny white buds
Have just burst into glory!
Praise God for Spring blooms!

In frigid winter
It's so hard to overdress.
Not so in fickle Spring.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

(Aided by the Bees)

Cardinals on my porch;
Lilacs blooming in my yard.
Doesn't get better.

Shadow of the tree
Shines through bare forsythia--
Sunlit dark presence.


A singular goose
Hawks his way across the sky
Leaving just his cry.


Ready to take off
Dandelion seeds are perched
On the start of life.



 Two birds on the wire
Look like they are attached--
And then they are gone.



A black and white cat
Watches me from the driveway--
Then comes for a scratch.


 Flowers are singing
A chorus of peaceful hymns
(Aided by the bees).

Sunlight through the leaves
Illumines and transforms them
Into a green glow.