winter faded like old parchment, drawn in charcoal
the trees waited for the inevitable colours of spring.
your voice coloured silence and left me standing
away from the crowd with my head inclined to yours,
listening to you, the shadows swept away and your
voice like the moonlight, the blue inks of the sea.
i watched you unwind night skies and the night stars
that burnt in the rivery realms of lost ruins and whispering
dreams, fell like dead men before your passion and there
was no reasoning with what you believed and you had
no compassion for the world. hatred fired up before
my forgiveness and you could not forgive. how many  
oceans scattered their flowers and light, how many
armies fell before the burning amber of your eyes?

Blackbirds nesting in the Pergola strut,
shaded in a Wisteria bower,
the first year it decided to flower,
untended, ragged spirals left uncut.

Father jet black darting past the window,
sudden flashes of his yellow rimmed eye.
Dowdy brown mother has no need to fly,
snuggled down as her love swoops to and fro.

Plaintive high-pitched cries announce their hatching
Three fledgling wide mouths hungry to be fed
A fortnight growth before learning to fly
one falls to earth is ready for snatching
Screeching alarums in fear and in dread
The jaws of a cat are no place to die

Gia
by Ahmad ***
Gia I adore you
I emplore you
Give us one more chance
Your children's folly knows no bounds
We seem bent on destruction
Bent on our own twisted ideas of justice
That justify the destruction of others
We can not see
We can not hear
The cry of Gia
The cry of our mother
She cries for us
She cries for herself
She cries for all creation
How much longer must she cry
Before we hear her
Before we recognize her
And we allow our beautiful mother Gia
To breathe
To heal
To sing
And to live

By instinct, I deeply sense
the ocean moves of love,
in her heart and respond,
as if, by nature's prompt.
In each wave we combine,
as the force and water mass .

See the big blue sky
Smell the fresh, crisp, cattail air
It is spring again

wind of summer
too vagabond
drunk
touching the melancholy afternoon
of the last pale season

flowing over the
deep yellow barren field
echoing the last mystic sound
though yet romantic
spring
the purples are deep
divine

butterflies are flying around
a few birds playing
on the ground
suddenly singing
uttering love

yellow
the golden yellow floating
in the eyes  
over hued
saturated

dropping on the ignored
dry
wither leaves
as the rain drops that has made
a blue
day dream

crossing over the mind  
a jingle
leap singing
classic
the very lost spring
scrolling into
soul

even in the lonely dark night
rolling up
the sound
as the rolling stone
of the sounding sea

@Musfiq us shaleheen

violets nod dainty heads
dancing to the zephyr breeze

watched over by gum
and swaying willow trees.

verdant leaves all shades of green
have returned if but for a short season

and on the rocks the lizards bask
and the ants continue working.

it is the time in between
the last of the summers sun
and the first leaf fall.

it is the most gentlest time of all

Smoke lifts slowly from the stack
sideways drifting now

Leaves begin to gently quiver
weather vane swings round

Flags begin to faintly flutter
boughs and branches move around

Umbrellas flipping inside out
wires howling now

People shout above the din
avoid the rolling over bin

Walkers leaning clutching coats
trees blocking roads

Autogiro flying tiles
fences lean and sway

People hurry on their way
to shelter from the hurricane

Clear blue sky
Just a slight early morning chill in the air
But the hedgerows tinged with fresh green
Highlighting the gold of the daffodils
Bluetits flit and flutter
And here and there the early bee
My seed trays showing signs of life
Of what is yet to be
My south country hills
Have come alive
After winters deadly hold
Daffodil and crocus
Now in colors oh so bold
Lovers walk now hand in hand
Now winter gloom has passed
Sad grey faces now tinged with a pink glow
Spring gladness
Reborn at last