A little birdie upon my sill
Sang a birthday song
Her voice was lovely, mezzo trills
Her voice tripped over yonder hills
She bubbled all along...

"59 birdies" warbled she!
"A bird for every year!
They fly the air for all to see!
They fill the sky, so wild! So free!
Everyone will hear!"

"59 birds?" I just blinked and said,
"There should be another ten!"
The little birdie cocked her head,
"She's too youthful, so instead
We went and shut the pen!

So onward flew the fifty nine!
Different colors for every year
The birdies soared over the pines,
They sang and said they didn't mind,
They all gave a cheer!

Ì have just  reread my poem
Just for a little fùn
The number of birds
Was just absurd
They just gave a birdie blurb
They should be a hole in one!!



This is a poem for my sister's birthday card...
She'll be 69

🥰 Cathy

SøułSurvivør

Thought I'd have a cuppa
to assuage my carnal thirst
I didn't know what I should drink
who I should have first

I thought of my friend Jack
Daniels to his friends
Life of the drunken party...
But it's only 9am

Then I thought of Harvey
who'd come in from the coast
But i really do not like him
'coz he's a milquetoast

Ah! I know who's perfect!
Tho I could be wrong
But he's tall, dark n handsome!
So very hot and strong!

He's uplifting! RICH!
He makes my heartstrings tug
He is bold yet mellow...
... and that good lookin' MUG!

Yes. I think I'll try him
he's got get up and go
He's the deep and "brew"ding type

he's my cuppa joe!



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of passage and
Invisible inc

dragonfly
<>¡<>

o denizen of yonder pond
you are so brave
of me so fond

your wings are crystal
beauty's grace
you're here
then gone without a trace

your body shimmers
oil's hues
mauve and purple
green and blue

tho I love you as you are
I'd rather view you
from afar

tho your love you'd like to share

please don't fly
into my hair!



<>¡<>
I actually did have that
happen once

write of passage aka
soulsurvivor

Belief:

Jesus describes three kinds of soil
Upon which we labor. Toil.

1. We disburse seed upon the edge
Of the way, the trodden verge
There no soft place to plant is found
Hungry birds peck seed from ground.

2, The second type produces shoot
Joyful! Laughing! But no root.
No soil but rock 1 inch under
The seedling dies, it's no wonder...

3. This growth's root indeed goes down
But a choking **** beside is found!
The plant is stunted, has meager shoots
No wonder! It had twisted roots!

Faith:

Now, there was a different kind of ground called Faith,
It buried seed and gave it grace.
The loam produced so much grain
The Soft soil and spirit rain!
So much fruit grew right there
that harvesting workers laborers shared!

There's a difference between belief and faith
Only the last will see God's face.
Only deep roots produce rich trees
One must dig deep to produce these!


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage

As a child I sat & searched
For rubies in the sand
I looked for blood red garnets
From the dirt within my hand.

I would look for hours
For a treasure trove of lies
I thought I'd be a millionaire
I wasn't all that wise.

Then I found a nugget
Of pyrite buried there
It was really Fool's Gold
But I didn't care.

Childhood is fleeting
So don't break it to your babe
That her cup of "rubies"
Won't buy a pauper's grave.

She'll dream herself a castle
In some foreign land
But the waves of growing up
Take the rubies in the sand.

SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
1/22/2020

The truth
lies
in the mouth
of a politician