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butterfly Jan 2018
midst of a dead night
the crickets play the music
the frogs won't hear under the sun
Freestyle Haiku Series 2018
Irene Poole Oct 2017
Playing the waiting game
Each one dancing around the other
Uncertainty building like a storm cloud with each passing
Second
Minute
Moment
Is this real?
Was this whole thing a child's game
Cat and mouse?
Crickets sing their song to the moon
Cars pass
The empty parking lot bathes in street lamp glow
What happens now?
Waiting for someone to show up for a first-time meeting is a feeling that puts me on edge. So I thought I'd write about it.
Star BG Sep 2017
Rock me to sleep crickets
with your grand night song.
The ones,
that makes stars shine
and moon radiate.
The ones
that gives peaceful dreams
a chance to root.

Take me
in your arms
oh lullaby,
so I may drift in sleep,
to vision sunshine days.

Rock me,
as night evolves to day
and light breeze
moves through window pane.

Gryllidaes,
small but loud.
Wrap my ears
with your musical berceuse.

The ones
that tickles inner ear
to match hearts warble.
The one’s
that play an original masterpiece
all its own.

Bluebottle of night
play on
like fine musician,
as I whisper smile.

As I,
drift
in world of sleep
with your blankets song
and my grateful heart.


StarBG © 2017
I couldn't sleep so I got up to write as I heard the crickets sing.
silent

pulled chain click        
stillness

cold air
no crickets              

bedsheets
stale

ceiling fan
still

stagnant fan
no click                    
no pull chain

nothing you can do to move air

left un-         -comfortable

still
yellow wallpaper

wide
adderall eyes
coma
eyes
grey
eyes
dull ***
eyes
*** worker
eyes
hospice
eyes
disembodied
dissociative
upper-rexic
still wood
eyes
watch
the fan
watch the still
fan
you
fan             
watch                          
still                                          


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Elise Jackson Jul 2017
The crickets are comforting around here.
Day 24/31 of my "Six Words A Day" Challenge for the whole month of July, the whole collection can be found on my page on the first of August.
Ma Cherie Sep 2016
The first time
I heard them
I swear,
I was to listening
to the most beautiful choir
in four-part harmony,
swaying
or angles wings rubbing,
& perfectly, playing
a common file instrument
angled, such a unique sound
symphonic & splendorous
they are all around
this free concert
an offering of
Mother Nature
chiming at once
uncaged,
& calling on the ladies
in perfect unison  
sounding like church
telling one another
of sunlit hours
say the flowers
fending off evil spirits
allowing me to travel
into the dark again
leaping over obstacles,
alerting me to danger,
still in their silence
  I am protected
by this harbinger of luck
a most powerful portent,
of coming things
they sit silently in the quiet,
like a copper cricket weathervane,
as the poor man's thermometer
spinning tales effortlessly,
in the wind calmly
  watching over us
a shivering in the night
save you, are mine
my Native American totem
or God's Cricket Chorus
foretelling of Sorrow
of coming rains tomorrow
ex-lovers and death
a shrill creaking
stridulating in song

Oh, I fear that day,
your music should go away
please dear uncaged cricket choir
  I truly ....
   hope you'll stay.

Cherie Nolan© 2016
Wow,idk inspired maybe?
Thoughts on my Native American beliefs and other studies, an inspiration of Fall, perhaps a little worried about what they bring, even in the house this year. I found
picture of a caged cricket, see my pic. ❤
Cicadas singing
a nighttime lullaby
sending me off to sleep
Äŧül Apr 2016
It is an Indian midnight,
Here it descends so quietly,
But now it is here so quickly,
So sonorous is the zeroth hour,
But none will listen to its music,
Hear the crickets breaking the silence,
In the end, it's midnight.
Midnight Poem.

My HP Poem #1053
©Atul Kaushal
Pauline Russell Mar 2016
I sit and listen to the crickets melancholy tune
I watch the moon start to bloom
The stars pirouette across the sky
Soon the frogs are croaking in relpy
Fireflies light up the night
Flickering their golden light

A single wolf starts to howl
As if to ask the age old question how
I ended up so lonely
And where's my one and only

My dog is sitting at me feet
She looks up at me as if to say, nothing here is off beat
In the cool of the evening
the honeysuckle is smelling much sweeter
Than in the day under the sun's heater

The moths flutter around on silent wings
My heart is so light it just sings
I just sit here for hours dreaming
Under the moon that now is just beaming

My dog gets up and moves to the door
I look at my watch it's way past four
She's ready for the foot of my comfy bed
So I oblige, and make my way inside,and lay down my weary head
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