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Ken Pepiton Nov 2022
The nest, half a walnut, about;
two tiny, unhatched eggs,

and this, November, cold after
a rare storm spun off a rare named one,
back east,
brought rain, right between the harvest
and the harvest festival,
as far as city folk imagine… I must assume,
no, allow,
no, imagine, I must
as far as I might say I know,
say these'll never hatch.

The flax will be just fine, though the
wheat will just be fodder.
a musing Tuesday
Philomena Sep 2021
i took a walk today in the garden and saw a wounded bird trying to fly, her wings were broken as she gasped for air, with every raise she lost a feather but i could tell she knew no better, her eyes searched the sky waiting to be found, chirping for what sounded like eternity
Black Petal Mar 2021
Iridescent bird
Pauses for sweet red flower
Lightning bolt stands still
LC Dec 2020
when her heart flutters faster
than the wings of a hummingbird,
his steady heartbeat anchors her
to the solid ground underneath their feet.
Mark Toney Nov 2020
wild thrill of the chase
hummingbird and bumblebee
~getting a buzz on

Mark Toney © 2020
11/16/2020 - Poetry form: Haiku - I saw a photo of a hummingbird in flight with a bumblebee right behind it. Awesome! - Mark Toney © 2020 -
Kerli Tulva Sep 2020
Where the flowers speak
and bees prepare honey
the world seems chaotic
a whirling poetic journey.

A path is constructed
down the aisles of trees
among flowers conducted
amidst the busy bumblebees.

Under the joyous sun fly
collect the life and warmth
as far, as fast and as high
a tiny heartbeat storms.

The world is so appealing
inside the tiny bushes
where beauty is revealing
the smells of nature blushes.
Amanda Aug 2020
And then I saw it,
At dusk, beating its small wings.
A guest from heaven.
My grandma passed away a few weeks ago, and today would've been her 88th birthday. She loved hummingbirds. I saw one today, at dusk, while talking on the phone with my aunt. It felt like a sign from her that she was okay, and that's she with me.
Amy Perry Jul 2020
Right in the center
Between my brows
The third ajna eye
Calls out to the crowd
Consciously choosing
Who to meet
Consciously moving
The world ‘neath my feet
Consistently bruising
Ego’s covering,
Shell so battered
It’s nearly shattered.
Hovering like those
Sacred birds
Iridescent wings
In my dreams
Answering to nature’s
Haunting calls
Answering to future
And destiny’s pulls.
Coleen Mzarriz Jun 2020

It was a surly heart
that I received through
the facades of this place
where I could no longer
feel the intensity
or the port thins
in Hummingbird.

The pavement.

From where I reach
the households that were lively
as it is,
now is just a muffled
lullaby, not wanting to be heard.

For once, I knew,
we are the shambles
we let them in
we let them see
until now we follow
I could not find the dimmer.

The light.

Has gone through
the running walls of this world
the pit was so deep
ghosts passing
tireless and ageless
lost for once again.


From where they are reborn
into the blackness
where the void remains
an imagination
a fantasy where the minds
tackle for the parallel,
from which they waver and perish,
an ambush.


Now I drift and ramble
till I picked up the ticking second
falling from the top
from when it lost me,
'tis now the moment to be created again.
When a soul is fallen,
that is when he is found.

Vigorous colors.

Memories of warmth colors
bringing back the place
of yearning,
back then is only a muffled lullaby,
now is a peeking peekaboo!
If uniqueness as it is
and that later than mortal
is now a vital colors
glowing as it is —
in the pavement of Hummingbird.
My last piece was a wreck and I am quite satisfied from this poem! :)
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