Monday, June 22, 2015

An Eruption of Ducklings



An Eruption of Ducklings


A dog barks
on the trail up ahead,
nosing into the wood,
his leash stretched
to its limits.
A squirrel, I’m thinking.
But when I reach that spot
I’m startled instead,
by an eruption of ducklings:
this fumbling flurry of yellow fluff,
a convoy unaccompanied, unattended,
tumbles from the tall grass,
spills, scrambles onto the path –
a rumple-feathered, muddled,
adorable jumble of baby birds.
Disheveled, in apparent disarray, they
scurry ahead forming a huddle –
binding together and disengaging,
separating and recombining
in conspicuous confusion.
Lickety-split eleven ducklings
plop into the pond
paddling for all they’re worth –
a delightfully ducky skedaddling.
Their seemingly mussed tussle
 (I am convinced) is actually
a finely orchestrated distraction,
instinctive defense
designed to foil potential predators
such as this disconcerted wanderer
too startled and charmed
to capture anything
but a smattering
of haphazard
and fuzzy
photos.

PSC/2015
photos by PSC / 2015-June

 

This poem was penned to share an experience I had while hiking in the woods just this morning. 

Summer has truly arrived!


 

 

Below is a YouTube link to an old favorite summer song by John Denver - "Season Suite – Summer".  

Hope you enjoy the music and the season!



   ==> John Denver's "Season Suite – Summer"

 

 

 

Monday, June 15, 2015

A Rainy Day at the Park


photo by PSC / 2015-06

A Rainy Day at the Park

Where are the adventurers?
All those mud puddle warriors
undaunted by gray and wind and rain?
I’m seeking the sappy, snappy
splash-happy, soggy, leap-froggy,
flipping, skipping, dripping-wet,
I-haven’t-finished-playing-yet
kiddos I recall.
Where are they all?
PSC/2015


 

Friday, June 12, 2015

Spring Whimsy

photo & haiku by PSC / 2015

touch of spring whimsy:
spinning rainbow whirligigs
blossom on the lawn

 

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Wildflower

photo by PSC

Wildflower

Not some horticultured whore, she was
missing the vivid purples, reds and pinks of the
roses and poppies she palled around with;
no bright berries nor succulent seeds,
no showy foliage to lay claim to.

All but invisible among her more colorful chums,
her pale and silver-white self
providing backdrop for bold, bright others.
Not a beauty to be seen with the naked eye,
more an aura of the soul, the spirit, the psyche.

Silent, not showy, in the sunshine, but
gracing the garden in moonlit glow
while others dimmed and faded into darkness.

Planted not by the gardener, nor tended with care, but
strewn by providence, and left to her own devices, she
blew into this garden bed to take root, and bloom.

PSC/2009-Nov


This is my Day 1 offering for the 5 Days of Poetry Chain.

Thanks to:
for inviting me to play along. 

If you  are interested in joining the chain, 
"message me" on fb (Pamela Smyk Cleary) and I'll add you!