Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
Skies draw me – the allure of wings the inference of escape Not afraid to dream – imagination fully engaged willingness set on go Till darkness encroaches – a black line blotting periphery Imperfection an ugly critique – self flails doubt becomes certainty Wrench my perspective away from the gloom need to crop the image. […]
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Intense, your presence, fierceness of talons, bulk of feathered might – humble my soul’s rejoicing, grateful to share this brief encounter. (For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)
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A succession of tweets draws me to riverbed where tiny legs scurry across exposed rocks. Foraging amongst soggy offerings, the Spotted Sandpiper exudes confidence. It is female who choses breeding ground, prepared to defend her clan, appoints her mates to mind the young – she is polyamorous, hormone driven – a force. (For Granny Shot […]
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Vultures come sharpen talons and beaks tear at necrotic flesh pick this carcass clean I need a committee to rid me of parasitic past trauma’s cadaver weighing me down. (Linking up to Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day. A macabre bird and poem to fit the season. Image from personal collection)
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The river holds so many surprises least of which is the sudden appearance at water’s edge of a tall white egret – a countenance I acquaint with Texas and warmer climes – what wonder to find this greatness at my backdoor. (The Great Egret is common in coastal areas, but not a bird I have […]
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I am in awe of the eagles who have made our neighbourhood home. To see them up close is such a blessing. For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day, and for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: pure/ serene.)
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Must have been the heat – lazy August sun reaching through Willow sway – or maybe the laughter bubbling up from brook – had me so ensorcelled I swear I saw the veil slip, beheld faery beings – a second of enchantment then gone…
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Late August nights cool burnt dry hues will soon transform – symphony of colour There is sorrow in Summer’s end; Autumn’s icy breath Winter’s warning.
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Silent as the Great Blue, Autumn hues creep shifting the landscape altering my mood. Do feathers quiver at the ensuing chill, or is it merely human this seasonal affect? (For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day)
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Unexpected, this encounter – piercing golden eyes a coat of mottled feathers, a new visitor to our river – not sure who is more startled. (Smaller than the bald eagle, this bird of prey was perched riverside. Suspect it is a red-tailed hawk. For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.) (
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