"ribbet" poems
i perch
like a mindful, tiny bird's spirit,
on the very cusp of the milkyway.
a mere wisp,
of an evocative thought,
a dreams first seed,
a speck of fairydust,
in the iris,
of tentative belief.
i have,
yet
to travel the spirals
of the windmill mind,
yet
to be fortified by conjecture,
ratified by trial of fire.
my inchoation began,
at the galaxies birth,
yes
i am a by-product of
the big bang.
and
yes i too,
have seen
how and why,
god made the heavens,
such an alluring shimmer
of blue,
and why
all things,
great and small.
need the spark,
the desire to accede,
to the wont,
to ascend to
something
higher and more profound.
i am,
external,
internal,
eternal,
grace,
i am
in the tears of
sad sorrow,
i am
in the magic of
unadultered joy
in
the laugh of a child,
the flight of a bee,
the glimpse of tommorrow
the purr of a cat,
the bark of a dog,
the roar of a lion,
the ribbet of a frog,
in an old womans glance,
the first kiss of new lovers,
in a babes first smile,
in the fragrance of flowers
left in memorium,
in each and every
spark
of flighted fireworks.
i am
to be found
for i am
hope
and
i abide eternally,
in all.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
i perch like a mindful,
tiny bird's spirit,
on the very cusp of the milky
way.
a mere wisp of a thought,
a dreams first seed,
a speck of fairydust,
in the iris of tentative belief.
i have yet to travel the spirals
of the windmill mind,
yet to be fortified by conjecture,
ratified by trial of fire.
my inchoation began,
at the galaxies birth,
yes i am a by-product
of the big bang.
and yes i too,
have seen how and why,
god made the heavens,
such an alluring shimmer of blue,
and why all things, great and small.
need the spark,
the desire to accede,
to the wont,
to ascend to something...
higher and more profound.
i am external, internal grace,
i am in the tears of sad sorrow,
i am in the magic, of unadultered joy
in the laugh of a child,
the flight of a bee,
the glimpse of tommorrow
the purr of a cat,
the bark of a dog,
the roar of a lion,
the ribbet of a frog,
in an old womans glance,
the first kiss of new lovers,
in a babes first smile,
in each and every spark of
a flighted firework.
i am to be found
for i am hope
and i abide in all.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
And that was all another story,
Now bed my little eggs
As A Hundred And One
Little eyes shut tight,
Night,
Night,
Eggs Sleep
Eggs Grow
Eggs we love you so
So they slept
Morning Shimmered
Like a blanket lifted
A Hundred And One
Eyes awoke
"Mum"
"Mum"
Above Bubbles frothed
With each
POP
POP
POP
Was heard faint whispers
Of a
croak
ribbit
A Hundred And One times
If didn't lose count??
Mother out of breath
Hopping,
Jumping,
"What is it my many children"
All at once
A TAIL WE DO HAVE
My little ones, that was the story
"Of which I spoke"
But I guess
A Hundred And One
Were playing spot the egg
And not listening to what
RIBBIT mother said,
You wait till tomorrow
My young
Now go out and play,
So they rushed and played
Till the glow in the heavens sank down
Beneath the ponds gaze,
Now bed my little ones
Growing up so fast,
As a hundred a one
Little eyes shut tight,
Night,
Night,
Tadpoles Sleep
Tadpoles Grow
Tadpoles we love you so
Morning broke not as before
The racket from above
They awoke
A Hundred And One
Ran with tail between there legs
MOM,
MOM,
MOM,
All were afraid of the unknown
"Children, children"
She softly ribbited spoke,
"It is but water"
From up high and then
Drips from the clouds,
To down Below,
"Fear not my young ones"
She spoke,
And the day was noisy
And a mess did they make
But to bed early they went
An early morning
You all must wake,
As a hundred a one
Little eyes shut tight,
Night,
Night,
Frogs Sleep
Frogs Grow
Frogs we love you so
And It was Just reached
Dawn,
She softly spoke
Time to wake
Babies no more,
You are grown up
!!Its time to go!!
"Go where mother"
"To the world beyond the pond"
Life is ever moving
And so you must move on
Be brave my little
Ribbits,
&
Ribbets,
For your life is just a
Hop,
And a
Jump,
Away,
Find your damp patch,
My Hundred And one
And then make it your home..
For you are not children ribbet any more.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
And then they stopped.
Little frogs stopped their night sounds.
I couldn't figure out how to describe the sound.
Certainly they weren't chirping
for they were not birds
Nor cricketing for they were not crickets.
Quirky quaking.
But isn't quaking quake,
which means to shake violently?
They seemed to be
tiny ribbets actually
Perhaps two whole steps higher
on the piano keys--
higher than the pitch I have
in my head.
Perhaps even an octave higher.
No matter.
They were tiny ribbets to me.
Tiny ribbets actually.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
leapfrog, crawlfrog
sitting frogs, snogging frogs
frogs, frogs, frogs
making pollywogs
sudden downpour
rainfall and now we have been
stopped by froggy urban sprawl
all over the road, expanding
the tadpole nation
every frog hop jumping
to their station.
uncle toad needs you
all the little froglets
stand up and take your
place in the human
eradication
we are small, we are cute
and soon we will be many
and our conflagration will bear fruit
the ribbet will roar
the pobblebonk will rise
watch out humans, watch out flies
time you realise...the frogs are coming
looking out for more...it is written
in our sacred lore...we are the future
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 7:26 PM UTC