Thursday, May 12, 2016



It seemed unfair  
that trap –
the snare
 you (cunning) set
to snatch and
catch a glimpse,
and yet…

that creature caught –
it brought a smile
of joy to me
to see your quarry
fully captured,
wholly free

PSC /2016

This poem was inspired by some photos and articles I've seen and read recently about specific instances where a photographer used staging tactics (food as 'bait', cameras with timers, etc.) to capture photos of animals in the wild.  (I confess, I've put out food to lure birds closer so I could photograph them. The photos on this page are all mine. This, however, was going above and beyond. In one instance, it was the animal itself that actually took the photos -- and they were pretty great photos too! -- sparking a lawsuit and some debate as to who actually possessed the copyright for those particular photos, the photographer... or the monkey. (Honestly! You can't make this stuff up.)

Anyway, if you'd like to read more about my inspirations for this poem AND see some of the excellent photos that occurred as a result, you can hop over to the links below. (I didn't include those photos here because, well, you know, copyrights.) 

The monkey lawsuit
(macaque & nature photographer David Slater’s camera)

 Some wild (& trained) barn owls

(Photographer John Walters & animal trainers Lloyd and Rose Buck)

Photog Allan Dixon takes animal selfies  
NOT exactly the same situation as those above -- but cute & entertaining, none the less:

Also linked to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night at #172 where any poet can submit one poem of their choice. Come play with us at: - open link night #172

Monday, May 9, 2016

Inimitable Trees

“I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.”

Joyce Kilmer

Inimitable Trees

What more could you or I
(or anyone) ever hope to add, do you think,
to the amazing, miraculous, natural grandeur that
inhabits, resides, abides in any (every) solitary tree?  I
know (with certainty) my paltry poetic vocabulary shall
ever fail to conjure an inkling of such unequaled, never
to be replicated perfection.  One need only listen, breathe and see
in order to embrace the mystery, music, magic and majesty of a
single towering redwood or oak. Close your eyes and know the poem
has already been written in wood across the sky – those lovely
noble limbs in silver snow, autumn glory, or graceful green – as
holy as any sacred sanctuary, welcoming as home, gracious as a
friend. Couldn’t we (shouldn’t we?) all aspire to be a tree? 

PSC /2016


This poem was written in response to a prompt from De Jackson over at dVerse Poets Pub. The assignment is a new (to me) poetic form called ‘the golden shovel’.
(It was a lot tougher than it looks. I dare you to try it!)

Hop over to the site to find out more about the form and to read more 'golden shovel' poetry: - The golden shovel form
From there, you can jump over to other poets sites to read their ‘golden shovel’ poems.

NOTE: I chose the first 2 lines from Joyce Kilmer’s poem “Trees”
You can read Kilmer's entire poem here: - Joyce Kilmer - Trees