by Sara Kendrick |
The gray overcast sky predicts
Rain to layer the damp
Cool will become colder wet air
Trapped inside, lifestyle cramped
It is worse for blossoms turned brown
Their spring beauty cut short
Soon to join spent blooms 'pon the ground
Cold their life did thwart
The bullfrog croaking in the pool
Not hindered by cold air
Is he calling his love to come
See his fair lair
There is a stillness this morning
A quiet 'pon the air
All the birds softly sing their song
Yet stillness says beware
by Donal Mahoney |
Puff Up, Inflate
One kind of pigeon,
one kind of snake,
as far as I know,
puff up, inflate.
There’s the bullfrog,
of course, and
peacocks have tails
so I tell my wife
what she already knows:
Once I become
whoever I am
I love you.
by Karen Jones |
Are you that girl or guy
Who can gaze at the sky a while and smile
At the cotton candy clouds dipped in sunset
Are you that friend who could join in
As bullfrog green sings brown sonnets
Serenading his one and only true love
Are you that soul who stands real close to deliver hugs
So warm they melt the moon causing swooning spooning
Are you the one who laughs in the sun
especially at yourself finding human err
Are you the peace I seek in my dreams will
I wake to find you there a thrill?
If not I am and who are you?
by Jean Ward |
love, heart, heart, me,
Honeysuckle grows all entwined,
Roses will soon need pruned.
I am in love, dear heart of mine.
I hear the call of the Loon.
Fireflies on the window sill.
Grasshoppers jump in the corn.
Sweet call of the Whip-poor-will,
and Bullfrog sings by the pond,
and--of you I am quite fond.
Fonder even than fond.
Oh, dear heart of mind
tell me another yarn,
about the time of Whip-poor-will
and the Bullfrogs song by the pond.
I wonder if Crickets dance,
do Ants work all the time?
As our arms do entwine,
dear heart of mine.
Are you in love
with me by chance,
dear heart of mine?
CONTINUED IN POEM III
by M. L. Kiser |
appreciation, earth, nature, peace, poems, poetry, water,
In tranquility of a silver mountain lake,
dance the chlorophyll offspring of the
trees upon a exhilarating springtime breeze.
white and pink cirrus travels the stratosphere,
what it sees I would love to know;
perhaps all that the birds see, maybe more.
A bullfrog greets me as I wade into the aqua
and I laugh at the playfulness of a dragonfly
as it happily teases him.
My soul gently embraces the transition
that is springtime to summer’s grace.
A BRIAN STRAND JULY 22 Poetry Contest