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ALesiach Jul 2019
Awakened by the kiss of dawn
the softness of her morning light
gently nudges the night away

The dew drops twinkle on the lawn
a bird sings sweetly his delight,
his trilling, courteous and gay

The garden flowers seem to spring
amidst the green they gently sway
floral fragrance floats on the breeze

The bayou softly murmuring
wavering shadows still at play,
lost in the depths of cypress trees

A squirrel scampers to the ground
and across the yard he rushes
buries acorns without a sound

In the distance a baying hound
eager to hunt in the bushes
until fox or raccoon is found

A horse gallops over a hill
enjoying freedom and the sun,
he stops, grazing in grassy fields

I follow nature and be still
watching as the day has begun
and early morning beauty yields

ALesiach © 07/29/2019
ALesiach Jul 2019
In the shadows of the acorn tree, watching the squirrels race around gathering acorns. Their busy little hands rotating them, examining each acorn. Hoarding them, even brawling with other squirrels for access to the best trees. Daring acrobats that risk life and limb to collect them from the willowy ends of branches.

Trees full of acorns
daring acrobat squirrels
hoards little brown nuts

ALesiach © 07/28/20187
Poetress2 Apr 2019
Squirrels gather nuts,
to prepare for the Winter.
They plan very well.
Juhlhaus Feb 2019
I sat outside today eating
Sushi and miso soup in the sun
Some squirrels came by
And stared at me hopefully
I put a bit of miso soup in the lid
And set it out for them
But they weren't interested
Then a gust of cold wind blew the lid over
And the soup was spilled
One of the squirrels went for the crumbs
In an old potato chip bag instead
A somewhat poetic anecdote from my lunch hour.
K Balachandran Oct 2018
Squirrels begin vocals,
Ravens join issue with them;
Racuous symphony!
K Balachandran Jun 2018
rain bird serenades,
Squirrels play second fiddle;
ravens party-****!
let the gawkers
make haste
may thier
make
it
frozen clay

showers
of
frost

clung teardrops

my depths deaths
shall they swallow
birds admiration
aspirations
on
man

that an bird would ask it's wings
why it it you choose
to feather me
tickle me
from
the
sky



ask let why
that my flesh be
peeled
from
the
back


of
mine
eyes
say not
let the gawkers
?











...
..
.
back
an
...
..
.
Grant Dickson Oct 2017
You see me Hurrying and scurrying
Gathering my food cautiously,
Looking around constantly worrying
Sneaking around precociously.

Weaving; bobbing, always dodging
Bushy tailed little scavenger I am,
So may despise me as I dwell in their lodging
But all I want is a home so don't give a dam.

Climbing my tree like a famous mountaineer
Old and young will wave or sit and say hello,
Quickly I think it's time to evacuate from here
The all clear I see and again on the ground I go.

Fluffy and Grey sometimes even Red
Speeding around among the leaves,
Time to nest and put my children to bed
Until once more the summer itself retrieves.

Grant Dickson 04/09/2017

This poem was inspired by a Squirrel
This poem was inspired by one of my vocal tutors who had posted a you tube blog and was sat in her car when she suddenly saw a Squirrel and proceeded to wave at it and say hello.
Mihir Kulkarni Oct 2016
"More squirrels"
She exclaims
And I wonder what
In the world
Could it be
This particular time!?*

It usually starts like this...

Every once in a while
I find her
Lost
In her own thoughts
Gazing
At nothing in particular
But everything
At once.

At times
Like these
She is a genius
Gone crazy.

I catch a glimpse
Of those star-bound eyes
And try
To guess
The stride
Of her imagination
Without
Much luck.

Could she be thinking about…
A universe made entirely out of glass?
Why humans don’t have a tail
Anymore?
Reasons behind love at first sight?
Or what to name the 3rd butterfly
She saw today?

In her picture perfect
Stillness
I can viscerally sense
A divine flow
Of thoughts
And it evokes in me
The wonder
That one experiences
While watching
A calm river flow
Knowing
Turbulent currents
Are ever present
Just hidden
Deep inside.

If I
Shake her vigorously
I know for sure
At least 23 ideas
And 47 musings
Will fall around
And we will
laugh hilariously.

But I dare not
For the fear
Of my life.
She is an artist
Painting
With her imagination
And you
Don't disturb artists
Do you?

Once she’s back
To the material realm
She comments
Randomly
About how we need
More squirrels
In the world.

I almost always
Immediately concur.
Then slowly ask
“why?”.

She gives me
One of those looks.
Like the ones
You give your dog
When it’s looking
At you eating food
And you’re deciding
If you should
Give it a small bit
Or not.

If I am
persistent enough
She gathers
All her thoughts
And illustrates
With one of the most
Amazing stories
The important role
Of squirrels
To save our
Doomed world.

After listening
To her
Seemingly logical
And
Completely weird
Stories
I nod obediently
Then carefully
Check
If her coffee
Has something mixed in it.

The gesture
Makes her
Burst out in laughter
Every single time.

And we repeat this
Day after day
Night after night.

I'm so used to it
That now
Even if I hear
"Cement flowers"
"popcorn candies"
Or
"balloon bullets"
I am mentally prepared
To understand
The story
Behind all of it.


That’s how it is.
She keeps daydreaming
About stuff
And I keep dreaming
about her.
I can easily spend my lifetime dreaming with her.
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