A chick-a-dee
lands
On an out stretched
hand.
Confident,
Bold,
Self assured.
A human friend
Among the flock.
In a treetop,
down on the
ground.
It peeks,
and it peeks,
at the seeds,
inside.
A suspended
perch,
above
the ground.
Raindrops,
like dew drops,
glitter
on the ground.
They sparkle
and
they shimmer.
They don't make a sound.
Water for spiders,
for bugs,
and for flies.
For beetles,
for slugs,
and bees
near their hives.
Gathered like lace,
their patterns
sublime.
Beautifully placed
in the swirling
abyss
of time.
water ebbs
water flows
over fingers
over toes
it washes your face
it cleanses your soul
leaving a trace
making you whole
it swims through your mind
it tickles your feet
it makes you smile
at those you meet
I love it
as water
I love it
as ice
water
it waters the world
making
everything right
There he sits
With his frys
As I
Contently, stare
Into his eyes.
I swipe a fry.
He does not know
Where I sit
Or where
I go.
We all have our niche.
Maybe, we have discovered a ditch!
Or maybe, on a broom, we have seen
A WITCH!
Or prehaps
Those are my thoughts
Are my thoughts
My thoughts
I think.
I am putting to bed,
The thoughts in my head.
As they will keep
As I slumber
To sleep.
As I walk through this forest
All alone.
Maria Tuttle
Just a little bit of sunshine
Just a little bit of rain
Lots and lots of love
And our garden
Is happy again.
Their faces are blooming
Their stems tall and straight
Swaying with the breeze
In our little piece of Eden
Doing as they please.
If people could be flowers
Instead of ivory towers
What a peaceful place
Our world would be.
Who is the poet of the flower?
The answer changes by the hour.
Petals of
blue,
and of white,
and of pink.
The scent of the flower,
Cause the poet to think.
The stem,
The stalk,
Where in
The flower's beauty
Locks.
Grown
In sand, and soil,
And rock.
God's paint brush
Moves,
With grace and ease.
Beauty, found and sought.
To Mothers,
From far and wide.
Here on earth,
And in the sky.
To those who mother
Other people's children.
To those who benefit
From other people's mothers.
From the goose
With her gander.
To the Mother osprey
Who yelled at me.
Happy Mother's Day
To all of the women
In this world!
Stumped
I am stumped
Totally stumped
So stumped.
Stumped
By all the things that I have heard
When people say
Not a single word
Like flower petals
They grow on dead wood.
They love me
They love me not
And the waters swirl
As the world turns
And
Everything stands
Still.
I love this rock,
With it's wood and rock.
The ice that clings
Like a woolen sock.
It'll stay there
Til the weather is fair,
When it will melt away
Like a frilly frock.
It is so much fun
To see the slush
Form
Beneath your shoe.
It will make you wet,
But what they heck.
A tasty treat,
For those fast red feet.
Of the elusive red squirrel
If it comes near the house,
It will be treated like a mouse
AND!!!!!
Happy Spring Everyone !!!!!
Shadows in the snow,
how sullenly they flow.
In the depth,
of winter blues.
The colours,
varying in hues.
One war
is almost over.
Another one
may soon begin.
The clouds open,
and shadows form.
The forecast,
as unsure.
As the winter
is long.
Groovy Tales of a Well Adult 