Poem for Thanksgiving

Mr. Owl’s Apology
 
High above
the woodland din,
perched on a
listing redwood
limb,
I spy
the hollow
far below
where humble
creeks
and rivers
flow,
where songbirds
flit and
beauty lies,
where greening
trees and
bluing skies
hide forest
creatures
shivering,
their flittering
and fluttering
their wintering
and summering,
set my heart
a spin-owing.

Poetry Challenge: Rictameter

Greetings, All–

Sometimes I write poems in response to prompts posted on the Miss Rumphius Effect blog.  This one calls for a 9-line poem with the following syllable counts:  2-4-6-8-10-8-6-4-2, and requires the first and last lines to match.

You

You are…
the crest upon
a robin’s chest, the blue
in a bluebird’s feathery nest.
You’re the song I sing when I go to sleep,
the words I pray my soul to keep
when I need to be strong—
and if I’m not…
you are.

Hide ‘n Seek

I wonder where
the blackbird went—
the one who sang
all night?
I wonder why
this songbird hides
whenever it is light?

Does he fear
the chilly
white—
or does he just
prefer
the night?

Poem for a Beach-y Day

Sandpiper

He scurries
to the water’s
edge on skinny
piper feet.
He pokes
around the frothy
sand with spiky
piper beak.
He noodles in
the silky surf
for tiny clams
and eggs—
then scampers from
the rising sea
on
s
k
i
n
n
y

p
i
p
e
r

legs.