From the darkness calls

On this last day of April
a call sounded in the night. 
The sky was clear,
the stars were out,
and magic called from the darkness.
We had no expectations, just a
"Wouldn't it be cool if..." attitude.
Yet there he was -
rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he sang:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he flew:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Grace.




Day 30 - last day!

Just dandy (aka "The lion's mane")

Some stand tall, others fall short,
but they are all proud.
Seeds hurled forth on the slightest
of breezes,
but only after its vibrant lemon yellow is
interrupted
by the black banding of a bumble bee.
A name coming from the French
- dent de lion -
translated as "tooth of the lion,"
it is not nearly as fierce as its name implies.
No, quite to the contrary.
Fields of delightful golden pompoms soon
give way 
to a dreamy white haze.
Their delicate lace fingers reach out,
seeds on parachutes,
floating to realms unknown.
They are whispers of
the summers of our youth.
Don't tell me "This is a weed."
I will counter with "This is a thing of beauty."

---

Today's poem does not come from a writing prompt. Rather, it was inspired by the many photos I have taken recently of dandelions in all kinds of light, in all stages of being (well, mostly). This poem has been coming on for a few days, after taking the time to study the intricacies of this fine flower. For an example of a recent photo from my dandelion collection, please see "dandelion sunset" on my photography blog.



Day 26

space available

Fieldside Realty -

providing safe nest boxes since 2006

It is our business at

Fieldside Realty

to offer clean, safe, and free housing

to Bluebirds and Tree Swallows each spring.

Each of our properties includes

* Handcrafted one-room oak box,

perfect for nest building and starting your family

* Stovepipe baffle for security against rodents and snakes

* Creekside access, just wingbeats away

* Free nesting material

* Some of the best bug hunting in town

* Excellent perching spots nearby

The properties are located in a friendly,

well-landscaped neighborhood.

Humans will check in on your dwellings periodically

to make sure that you are doing well

and to track the progress of your

growing family.

We hope you will consider renting from

Fieldside Realty today.

(Special appreciation given to multiple brood attempts.)

NEW LISTING: 1 duck box available for immediate occupancy

---

While technically written on day 24 of NaPoWriMo, this is in response to day 23's prompt "unlikely couples," where we are to "[w]rite a poem in which you combine a speaker and an event that normally don’t go together." I'm also posting this one at my nature blog because I think a lot of folks there will get a kick out of it.



Day 23

Unfair

Soil - pilaged
Leaves - mangled
Roots - destroyed
Punished for doing your job,
you performed admirably, yet a little too well.
You took hold in the inhospitable soil
where little else would grow,
slowly choking out what few jewels did thrive.
If you had your way,
within a few years a monoculture would surely reign,
but I did not sign on for that.
Your iron fist will not take over my garden,
so the pulling begins and continues for days.
At first it is cathartic,
the removal feels justified -
Aha, there's a hosta!  Oh look, another! -
but it soon turns to remorse.
A realization that this plant was only doing its job,
covering the ground just as the label said.
It did not sign on for this.

---

Wow, things are just going downhill with my plant poetry, aren't they? This one is based on real life, on the true removal of a lovely but invasive Vinca plant from my flower garden. Poems from days 14-16 will be posted tomorrow - I left my notebook of poems at work by accident on Friday.



Day 17

Symphony

The setting sun always brings a
symphony of some sort.
I sit in silence,
listening for the subtle sounds of the first notes.

Tonight's was an intimate concert where
the centerpiece was the crepuscular chanting of cardinals-
the issuing forth of chips and chatter,
the fluttering flourish of heavy wing beats,
the crisp crunch of seeds being husked.

A scuffle and skirmish of males showing off,
the silence of females observing.

I am blessed to bear witness to their rituals.


Day 1

soon

Goose stands on one foot
Waiting for her mate to come
On the wings of spring

Sunday haiku

I have very little practice writing haiku.  No time like the present to get started!

---

squirrel tails flicking
acrobats without a net
jumping for bird seed

Something's coming

I paw at the ground,
Tossing aside leaf litter and rich humus -
Searching for signs of life,
Inhaling the aroma of sweet earth primordial.

The mist of morn,
Of spring new-born -
It beckons forth
And I am torn.

The fern is furtive as I fumble with the soil -
Not yet ready to burst forth, to show itself,
To leave behind the shackles of dormancy;
Still waiting for thirst-quenching rains,
And for mercy from the strains of dormancy.

Knees on the ground
I listen to the sound
Of earthworms crawling 'round -
Happy that new life will soon abound.


-my response to read write poem prompt #118