Foofaraw City –
my name for the bird feeder
where chaos frequently reigns.
~
Synonymously,
a valid name for Congress,
where too, alas, chaos reigns.
Foofaraw City –
my name for the bird feeder
where chaos frequently reigns.
~
Synonymously,
a valid name for Congress,
where too, alas, chaos reigns.
Maybe after two
attempted populist coups,
they will discard that playbook?
~
When winning is all
that matters, losers refuse
to accept defeat.
Cardinals bring color
to these January days
and help keep the blues at bay
~
Riots of color
brighten the drab winterscape,
even if only in spots.
May there be a calm
before the breaking chaos,
or, at least, a hiatus?
~
Drama kings and queens
will ensure that chaos rules
as long as they have the throne.
Just to see the light
of the sun caress the leaves
soothes our housebound souls.
~
There’s light in finding
loyal and faithful children
who bring soothing comfort food.
Chaos waves hello
whenever we get comfy,
likely to keep us focused.
~
A wave is ok,
but an extended visit
is really overwhelming.
We take our wellness
for granted until sickness
pays us a visit.
~
Some relish sickness.
Perhaps they feel unworthy
to bask in a healthy glow?
Precise ritual
nourishes the heart and soul
of the sacred space.
~
Knox and the two cats
have rituals of their own
which I must follow.
The morning sun made
quite an entrance. The sky turned
red in anticipation.
~
Every sailor knows
what red skies in morning mean;
do you know something different?
Time is of essence
when our need is the greatest;
otherwise, it ebbs and flows.
~
Hopefully as time
goes by we finally learn
how to ride the waves.
Bringing our old selves
into a new year
means nothing basic will change.
~
Basically you’re right.
Sometimes our poems will post
on schedule… and sometimes not.
As this old year draws
to its long awaited close,
what good can we say of it?
~
The answers vary,
but many would say they’re glad
to wish this old year goodbye.
May the door open
to positive beginnings
and close on what doesn’t serve.
~
Some that wish to serve
should have the door closed on them
since they’ll only serve themselves.
As darkness deepens,
high above us, it begins.
Jupiter and Luna dance.
~
Astrologers say
their dance brings optimism
and benevolent action.
As the birds gather
for their morning feast, Knox keeps
the pesky squirrels away.
~
Every little bird
wants a faithful guardian
to protect the food supply.
There’s some adventure
even seekers of such things
would be better off missing.
~
And then there are those
we didn’t sign up for, but
before we knew it,,,boom!
Crystal icy air
lends stars a merry twinkle
but makes watching misery.
~
Unfortunately
all that sparkles is not gold
when the air is icy cold.
A welcome sun shines
on this frigidly cold day –
a true Christmas gift.
~
A radiant gift
bringing joy to every heart
if not warmth to icy lands.
Nurturing the soul;
life’s singular endeavor.
All the rest, mere distraction.
~
Feeding our egos,
we starve our souls and we can
never get enough.
Morning winds foretell
a day of icy chill as
the sun looks on from afar.
~
Falling temperatures
sends people in for cover
as the darkness falls.
In this jacuzzi,
gazing past palms at the sea,
denying winter exists.
~
With a forecast of
nine degrees, that denial
will be quite short lived.
Just a tiny dot
between two immensities,
the sky, the ocean, and me.
~
Though the other two,
both, be vast and eternal,
neither holds an equal spark.
On the horizon
great ships travel to and fro
whispering of adventure.
~
By listening to
distant whispers we often
miss adventure’s nearby call.
The sea surrenders
itself to the waiting shore,
then slowly retreats.
~
And with every pass,
the sea fetches bits of shore
to carry as it journeys.
A good rule of thumb,
if you’re parsing with adders:
Stock up on anti-venom.
~
If they’re known to be
adders, why parse? Save your words
for some appreciative folks.
A moment of peace
on a sunny day. Ocean
waves talk softly to the shore.
~
Smart seagulls strolling
in that gentle dialogue
wisely beak their raucous calls.
That nebulous they,
conspiring against us,
what do they hope to achieve?
~
That tremulous we,
filled with fear and suspicion.
What do we hope to achieve?
As they near the shore,
grey waves break into a wide,
white smile as seagulls soar.
~
The horizon hides
shyly behind misty veils
freeing the eyes to wander.
Aromatic oak
suffuses meat with its smoke
yielding gastronomic bliss.
~
There’s something about
the smell of burning wood – it
has a feel of home.
Woke up in fog, both
inner and outer. Wonder
which will be the first to lift?
~
Atmospheric fogs
form and lift with the weather.
Mental fogs tend to linger.