haiku on spring flowers

In brush strokes
Spring flowers white, yellow
Daffodils

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Spring grows warm
Magnolia trees bloom
Not for long

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Spring flowers
Temporal beauty
One moment

haiku on birds 2

regal, pompous
purple martins majesty
live in mansions

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run, run away
a honking, snapping terror
the goose is loose

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blue heron
fishes in reflections
one stiff leg

haiku on birds

flock of pigeons
flying over — blue skies
poop on my head

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feeding time
excited sparrows chirp ’round
flower box

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egg adopted
screech owl hatches wood duck
one family

A tree dreams of branches

A Tree Dreams Of Branches

 

A TREE DREAMS OF BRANCHES

 

One broken limb

splintered and

disconnected from its roots

frozen in time

a tree locked in its icy reverie

dreams of branches

becoming whole once more

veins growing outward

with the hope of leaves

only cracks in reality

Springs slow thaw

 

 

 

whissspers

WHISSSPERS

You whisssper in my ear
your palpable smile
some mystery
or a secret that only I am privileged to know,
some master plan,
some wisdom or
some knowledge
or just “I love you.”

The warmth of your breath
softly radiates
entering by hearing
and “hearing by the word of god.

Familiar as a breeze
rustling the leaves
on a humid Summer’s day
under the shade tree.

These whissspering waves
ripple through my body
steadily quickening
the beat of my heart.

My pulse registers . . . . .
excitement, a cherished connection
words and meaning lost in anticipation
virtue swirls into sweet sin
tingle of unending hope
inspiring passions aplenty
I dream of grabbing you and
holding you closer
than my own skin.

that damn balloon

two more poems featuring the half-deflated balloon from the workplace office.

______________________________

I AM WAITING

I am waiting.
Waiting for the light to flicker.
Waiting for the walls to drop.
Waiting for the half-deflated ballon to fall
Waiting for the stale office air to circulate
Waiting for microscopic dust to settle
I’m waiting for your call.

——————————————-

A half-deflated balloon
from a celebration
long past

drifts listlessly
bobbing and weaving
in the recirculated
air current

Still tethered to
its cubicle
human placeholder
the open cage
where “pets” can roam freely.

3 haiku on spring

Feels sooooo good!
First warm day of Spring
Steps lightly

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Shining Bright
Birds sing in mid-flight
Spring sunshine

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Looking clearly
A glass wall separates me
from Spring outside

 

4 haiku on aging

Daily progress
with pain in every step
These “golden years”

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Unable to sit
Unease prevents stillness
My restless legs

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Time goes faster
Losing track of days
One more bare limb

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Once, clarity
of a happy, sad youth –
memory fades

spring morning rain

Spring Morning Rain

The beat of the
windshield wipers begins
and holds steady
as the dark clouds
of the worlds concert hall
slowly open
to the rhythm of the rain.

Passing headlights
provide the light show
joined with
the whoosh and hum,
a tire chorus
on wet pavement.

Spring’s early morning
experimental symphony.

why i write poetry

I cannot say I’m a great poet.
I’m not even sure I can say
I’m a good poet.

But, I do like words
their power to
evoke and invoke
feelings and emotions
pictures and memories.

And so I struggle
ever so humbly to
express my self into being.

office balloon

A half-deflated balloon
decorated with

colorful stars and
“You’re So Special”

tethered to its cubicle

now
bobbing and weaving

now
drifting listlessly in

currents of stale
recirculated air

its metallic surface
reflecting the

bright
white light of
office fluorescents