Offshoremore
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Showing posts from January, 2007
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In My Garden Today Amongst the garden litter blackbird hides. Searching for the remnant seed, by chance left behind. Stealthy in motion, sometimes quick to flee, yet when departing tail feathers flare defiantly. Song of warning is heard far and wide; hops between emergent bulb, I see blackbird hide. Starling siblings land formatively. Squabble over seed and nut, strung within the plum tree. Devouring all they strive to satiate, a hunger born of life lived at the fastest pace. Brave in flight with acrobatic skill; starling always first to try, starling strong of will. Across the garden frontier sparrows skim. Quiet and unassuming, they often venture in. Combined or unaccompanied, they’ll be; buoyant on a fragile perch, under canopy. Congregating in the hedge close by; sparrow chat escorts the day, as it eases by. Rare in its appearance thrush arrives, quick to investigate all of the blackbirds hides. And similarly cautious strains to sense, a predatory resonance within the garden fence...
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Waking Mark II This poem was written in response to my last one by Mac's Niece of Caged Minutes and left for me as a comment, however I feel it deserves front page exposure! I woke today with headache: The vodka had pursued! No caffeine to stimulate me, No contemplation of food! I dream of tripe and onions, Where lingering smells reside, And swim in digestive bliss with thoughts of two eggs fried. But empty are all cupboards, And absent are any remains. I woke today with headache, and grumbly stomach pains.
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Waking Mark I I woke today in silence and silence has pursued no thought to stimulate me no cognitive template of mood I sort out thought through tributary where conscious song resides and swam in the cerebral abyss in search of my voluble side but empty are all chambers and absent, thought remains I woke today in silence and silence is sustained
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I have noticed that my blog site has been more photo than poem of late, infact it's been a bit more arboricultural, and my original intent was to display poems. I have lots of ideas but am having a respite from creating verse so; I am going to refer once again to Mr. John Denver. There is a song of his whose lyrics have been on repeat in my head for a number of days, so I am going to share them. Today, while the blossom still clings to the vine Ill taste your strawberries, Ill drink your sweet wine A million tomorrows shall all pass away Ere I forget all the joy that is mine, Today