Bug-Day Afternoon

[BooMerengue]

My Baby

The climate in our country is very pleasant. Calgary Asian Escort It’s always warm in spring, hot in summer and cold in winter. Calgary Escort
My favourite season is autumn, because it’s always warm in September and October. Calgary Asian Escorts It’s often cold in November. It’s certainly interesting. The other reason is the days are short and the nights are long. The sun rises late and sets early. I can do my favourite things in the evening. Calgary Escorts

Sometimes a scent is really just a stink. It doesn't belong on this thread. Go away.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Sometimes a scent is really just a stink. It doesn't belong on this thread. Go away.

Already reported.

 

[BooMerengue]

Already reported.

TY. What a creep!

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Sometimes a scent is really just a stink. It doesn't belong on this thread. Go away.

Thanks. Got it. Missed the report in my massive unread emails box. Trying to catch up.

 

[BooMerengue]

Thanks. Got it. Missed the report in my massive unread emails box. Trying to catch up.

You're good, Babe! No worries.

 

[Maria2394]

This isn't my garden. Yet I come here
feeling like I'm home. But it's cold now and
The Frog Prince is away.

If I should stumble just a little
the one who lives here might find me.
It would be ok. Strangers, yet with similar souls.

Maybe then this is my garden. Another place, secret
in my mind where I am allowed
to be me. Just me.

Just like she does.

Merry Christmas, you. And many more.

Oh, Boo, it's lovely! And so very wonderful to see you still visit my garden. I miss my flesh and blood froggies but I have adopted some toads and lizards here. I love you sweet lady, always enjoy your poetry and am thrilled to find you here.

 

[Maria2394]

I had my girl home for the holidays from Normal, Illinois. ( a place I could never live, lol.)

Hello Tess and Dora! and the spam bot, ahh well, sometimes they just have to poop and don't care where they are. I would delete them if I could.

hugs to you all-

~ maria

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Starlings

Delinquents of the bird world
clattering to the feed station in
twos and threes on ragged wings,
black rags wind-blown and blustery,
they squabble and snack. Contentious
companions in loose cliques who bully
the smaller birds and claim the suet as
theirs alone, wiping their beaks roughly
on the wooden bars. They hang about
like louts with nothing better to do then
suddenly, as if called away, they leave as one
to terrorize some other well stocked table.

 

[Maria2394]

Delinquents of the bird world
clattering to the feed station in
twos and threes on ragged wings,
black rags wind-blown and blustery,
they squabble and snack. Contentious
companions in loose cliques who bully
the smaller birds and claim the suet as
theirs alone, wiping their beaks roughly
on the wooden bars. They hang about
like louts with nothing better to do then
suddenly, as if called away, they leave as one
to terrorize some other well stocked table.

Hi sweet Tess

I love the line with "ragged wings"..Somehow it reminds me of the poem that speaks of " I shoudl have been a pair of ragged claws..." who wrote that?

anyway, thank you for your contribution to my nature thread. I have always loved your poems and have a special fondness for any type of blackbird poetry.

 

[Maria2394]

friggin' rodents

tulip are rearing their spikes
from soil and this morning
squirrels raided the cast iron
pot where the bulbs have rested
all winter. I wanted to shoot
them ( the squirrels) at first then
I decided to let them eat seed instead
and brought the tulips inside
to bloom.

 

[BooMerengue]

Please, Maria. Bring back the toads- is their a new Prince? and the blooms and the birds. I hope to have my own garden this spring but until then, but also forever after, I need this garden.

Maybe, in part to get me writing again, I will make a garden here. Well not here; this is yours, but who owns that empty field over there.. the one w. the ancient willow trying to fall into the little baby creek? Wonder if I could use it...

 

[BooMerengue]

Aarrggghhhhh....!!!!!!!!!




You are so damned hard to catch!!!​

 

[Maria2394]

Redacted Confessions


I admit it, I am a ****
and in my past, I may have been
a ******. I cannot admit to
**** but I know when things get
tough I can ***** inside my ****
and pray for death.

I was not born, but *******
and I always knew my birth
was accidental, but mother
could have ******* me
and no one would have known
the wiser.

I don;t have any *******
because I fear the fear of
abandonment, and I don't have
any **** because I am already ****.

There are those I'd love to ****
and those I've dreamed of *******
but the one that I am ***** with
doesn't even know I'm here.

I want to *** but fear the tears
of my ****** when they look into my
milky ****. Oh, Mother save me
from myself because I have a *****
and am not afraid to *** **.

 

[Maria2394]

Please, Maria. Bring back the toads- is their a new Prince? and the blooms and the birds. I hope to have my own garden this spring but until then, but also forever after, I need this garden.

Maybe, in part to get me writing again, I will make a garden here. Well not here; this is yours, but who owns that empty field over there.. the one w. the ancient willow trying to fall into the little baby creek? Wonder if I could use it...

Darling Boo, you are welcome to the back 40, or which ever parcel you choose. There is plenty of room in my garden for whomever wishes to plant here. will there bee poppies and delphiniums? I sure hope so!!!!!


love you angel!!

 

[Maria2394]

Where , Oh Where
Has laundry toad gone?

Has he disappeared, my daughter
queried as if she read my mind
and knew the same was what
I feared, but one night while walking
the Corgi-Blue Heeler mix

'bout a half mile down the road
beside the fence where the sprinklers sprinkle
all the day and all night long
one bark alerted me
to the red-backed spotted toad
my doggie's digging had disturbed
the dampened toad, his squat
glistening body reappeared.

 

[Maria2394]

The most Boo-tiful butterfly
landed on my nose, I suppose
she thought I was sleeping
but through both eyes
I was peeping, curiously
seeking the source
of a tickle and found
a lizard napping
upon my toes.

( for Boo, of course)

 

[Maria2394]

Vacancy Upon the Hill

There is a vacancy- At the old frog pond.
I acquired this luscious tidbit via birdsong.

Darwin, at present, is the zebra finch
who resides in the green wire cage
outside the screened front door.
I am fairly confident that what he tells me
is true, after all
what has he to gain by lying?

Last I heard, Magellan Frog was best described
as "disgruntled" although I can't imagine
what in his watery world
he might have encountered to disturb
his normally gruntled nature.

Perhaps it was his fruitless search for a mate.
I was keenly aware of his enamored state
when it came to matters of Tammy Toad
but he had been forbidden, disallowed to date
outside his own speckled species.

Oh, How badly I felt for him, as I too
once loved a toad...

Darwin informed me, his cheeks plump with millet,
that Magellan Frog had made his decision-
he thought it best to just move along.
So he moved along
and young Picasso Frog accompanied him.

Picasso Frog was a newbie
barely out of his tadpole suit
when he came up with the grand idea
of crossing the newly paved road.

The back way, through the woods
would have been much better, but

the Tammy Toad bridge to love was burned
and Magellan Frog took this as a sign
of better things to come.
This optimism lasted until he witnessed
the tragedy of young Picasso Frog
who in his haste for adventure
looked left, then right, then crossed
without a second look to the left.

And thus, the vacancy upon the hill
is for an artiste frog.
Perhaps a Monet Frog would do,
lily pads and all,
and perhaps a second look as well
at the freshly hatched batch
of hopping spring girls
who will never giggle, sing or sigh
as they hide
behind nasturtium and clover.

Yes, a second look,
Magellan reconsidered,
might just prove productive
in the ways of froggy reproduction.

If not, at least he'll get some practice
in the ways of froggy seduction.


~~~~~~~~~~~

eta- this poem is posted on Normal Jeans page, just thought it needed to be here with the rest of the froggy poems

 

[Maria2394]

for someone I secretly admire

I dreamt I was there
with you today
walking through the woods

The woodpeckers make their presence
known as we make love
on the mossy forest floor

Neither of noticed the rabbit watching
or that it had begun to storm

 

[Maria2394]

...............

 

[BooMerengue]

I dreamt I was there
with you today
walking through the woods

The woodpeckers make their presence
known as we make love
on the mossy forest floor

Neither of noticed the rabbit watching
or that it had begun to storm

Rabbits are funny.
You can't read them cuz
the nose twitches distract

I would be a black lop eared.
Stealing the baby carrot tops
without a blink
unless there was clover.

then I would watch you.
(sitting like a stone waiting)
for trouble to come your way.

Then I would LEAP!! High
in the air. Warning you-
brush your hair
he's close. behave.

Then I would dive down the black hole.
My work done today.

 

[Maria2394]

I want to live in the mountains
and grow some righteous herb
learn the song o f every bird
and divert the creek at my whim

I want to go back
and be seven years old,
fishing with Daddy and learning to swim
and diverting the shallow creek
down the road near our home.

I want to sleep on the patio
with the dogs curled up between
and my siblings and I watched
for shooting stars until we went to sleep.

 

[BooMerengue]

It must have great potential Maria, if it drew Owera out of hibernation! - Now there will probably be more mulberry tree climbing (inside joke).

I miss Rybby sooo much!

 

[Maria2394]

I miss Rybby sooo much!

Me tewww!!!!!! I hope he is delighting heaven with his wonderful poems

 

[Maria2394]

I miss you, Boo

 

[Maria2394]

barren

there is black dirt beneath
beneath my fingernails
because I have n o shovel
nor trowel, fingers must be
made into tools, and the nails
they seal my fate
under the weight
of my dark, dank soul
soil?
I feel certain there is a plot
not to this short story
called life, but a tiny spot
beneath an oak that waits
for this empty, soil-less
soul