"wiggly" poems
On the frog
Looking for a dog
On the squizzlly wiggy at piggly wiggly
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC
A petal haired army saluting the call of the skies
- it made my heart go to her
until I hope her into being
and I look into her eyes -
eyes that shimmer with every shade of springtime
with frolicking lambs and trumpeting daffodils
with the glint of her chocolate stained Sunday dress,
dancing and whirling with the matriarch blues of six generations
to know our dance, but to write her own song -
a song composed of notes she will fashion for herself in
flower petal perfume and dirt and birthday cake tummy ache
and she can write them in gummy bears or wiggly worms
in any way she might choose, on bill boards or in locked diaries
but it will be beautiful beyond words because its her way -
her way - choosing to skim cliff edges over mama's apron strings,
tearing frills on tree branches and turning back her watch to arrive home late
and you can bet when she dreams him in her sleep she won't be feeling that pea.
But so long as she takes her dreams to heart and cuddles them to life
and knows that she is perfectly imperfectly beautiful and remembers that -
that life is lived as much on cliff edges as it is in your own home
that dress tears and stains speak joy every bit as much as a photograph
that mama's apron strings stretch far and wide,
and that though the shades of seasons change, she must sing her song
and dance.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
Night sets,
The sun falls.
Moon and stars become uncovered.
A pink faced child crawls under the covers.
A cardboard book is clutched in soft bands.
A f
d a
e r
r m
c b
u a
t r
e n
looks innocent and careless.
Mother hen, baby calf, wiggly pig,
their smiling faces send the child off to sleep.
That child remembers that story.
They remember the smiling faces of
mother hen, baby calf, wiggly pig.
That child is no long a child,
they no longer read that cardboard farm book.
They remember their childhood with that book,
they blur into one.
They see a barn just like the
f
d a
e r
r m
c b
u a
t r
e n
just like the picture in the cardboard farm book.
They stop to revisit their childhood,
they stop to revisit their innocence,
they stop to revisit those smiling faces.
f
d a
e r
r m
c b
u a
t r
e n
is only a step away,
that no longer child pushes open the sun warmed door.
They except innocence,
they except those smiling faces,
but they did not see what they expected.
The innocence of their childhood was a lie,
there are no smiling faces here.
This is not the
f
d a
e r
r m
c b
u a
t r
e n
from their cardboard book,
from their childhood,
they blurred into one.
Mother hen is not smiling,
her beak is cut off with a hot blade, she cannot move her wings in her cage,
her daughters are taken to live her fate,
her sons are ground alive to be feed to her,
mother hen is not smiling.
Baby calf is not smiling,
baby calf is just born,
then taken by a man in blood soaked boots,
baby calf watches helpless as their mother cries,
as their mother chews the metal bars,
as their mother fights the electric shocks.
Baby calf does not know their father,
neither does their mother.
Baby calf is put in a metal cage,
they will live a year or two,
baby calf will not move,
that is the point of veal.
Baby calf is not smiling.
Wiggly pig is not smiling,
wiggly pig can only wiggle,
only enough so her babies can drink her milk,
she cannot reach them though.
Wiggly pig will watch her babies grow,
but beyond what is natural,
beyond what their hearts can handle,
but there is a big demand for bacon.
Wiggly pig can see her babies hung from their hooves,
and slit open alive,
but wiggly pig can only wiggle.
Wiggly pig is not smiling.
That f
d a
e r
r m
c b
u a
t r
e n
is not as innocent as the cardboard farm book.
That farm in the book,
it was a lie,
but that cardboard farm book was their childhood right?
They blur into one.
Their childhood was a lie.
That no longer child lived a lie,
because power wanted them to only see the smiling faces,
they wanted them to believe that farm in the book
to be true,
not the lie that really is.
Power took away their innocence of childhood.
Power took away babies from their mothers.
Power took away my smile.
The f
d a
e r
r m
c b
u a
t r
e n
from my child no longer sends me off to sleep.
Instead it keeps me awake with the image of a farm,
not the farm in the cardboard book though,
a farm not filled with smiling animals,
a farm filled with cries, blood, sorrow, pain, horror, death.
A farm that is a lie.
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
Let me tell you a story about the time you walked me out of work, and how it changed the course of our lives. Let me explain how wiggly my insides felt to have you walking beside me. And let me tell you how I slowed my pace the closer we got to my car, trying not to be obvious. Let me tell you about us standing there, talking face-to-face outside of work for the first time ever, and how good and natural it felt. And let me tell you, time passed so quickly then, and the drizzle started turning to rain but I still didn’t want to go. So let me tell you about how I got courageous again, and asked if you wanted to go sit and talk in your car. Let me tell you how happy I was when you said yes, and how I’ve never been so thankful for rain. Let me tell you about our first of many “car dates,” when we just sat and talked. And let me tell you how it became clear very quickly that we are a natural fit. Because, let me tell you, I was so nervous that I’d be too quiet and we’d have nothing to say and it would become the bad awkward. But let me tell you how that didn’t happen, and we sat for hours in conversation. Let me tell you about our goodbye and how it was getting late because time had become nonexistent with you. And let me tell you about how you drove me back to my car because you didn’t want me walking in the rain, and I was so taken by how sweet you were. Let me tell you about how I was unsure of what to do, because we had hugged many times before, but honestly, I’d spent the whole evening wanting to sample your lips. But let me tell you, I’m not the one to make a move like that, so I just went for a hug as usual. And let me tell you how disappointed I was in myself. So let me tell you how I turned back, determined to kiss you, but quickly lost every nerve I had, and so started to settle for a second hug, this time adding the quickest kiss on your cheek. But let me also tell you how that somehow brought back the bravery, and I went for the kiss I truly desired. And let me tell you, baby, I’ll never know how I got the courage to kiss you first, but **** am I glad I did. Because, let me tell you, that kiss became one of the most pivotal moments in my life, and made me believe there was something worth living for. Let me tell you how your kiss saved my life.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
a babe
having a baby
thinking all is just rosy
cute lil nose
wiggly toes
soft skin
cute laugh
fashionable clothes
teeny, tiny shoes
in all colors...
little hands reaching
to capture your heart
then...
ear shattering screams
dream stomping cries
wretchedly soiled diapers
colic
chicken pox
measles
mumps
ear ache
tooth aches
bruised knees
stitched cuts
school friends
best friends
bullies
first loves
soft crying from her room
but always
always
little hands reaching
to capture your heart.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
it’s real and thick, like, jiggly
tingly and tasty— i said baby i’m
not made for much but giggling
and i can make your night
haven’t spoken since i was out on bond
but you’re super cute more than i
envisioned and you’re good at makeup
makes my feelings all kinds of wiggly
days lost in green oblivion
like a prison weight lugged around
do you remember when you were
with me all skinny and brittle *****
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
Pugsley snugs
on ugly rugs
and smugly shrugs
at Beak
But Beaky's peaking
and tweakily tweaking
while squeakily speaking
to Pink
And Pinky thinks
they're rinky *****
with stinky sinks
and ***** winks
Then Twiggy giggles
and jiggly wiggles
her wiggly jiggles
at Mister Higgles
And Mister Hig-g-l
Wait a second
Who's Mister Higgles?
'Undercover CBPP,' says he
(Crazy Bad Poem Police)
'Okay, let's break it up!
Enough of this stupid poem
Let's go, let's break it up!
Stay off bad poems people,
this stuff'll rot your
brain!"
©2011 Lyn
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
The Picture Window
The vista view never changes but daily.
The naked eye, registers the same distances,
resting objects unmoved, modest alterations
by wind and water are noted, but for intent,
for purpose, the watercolor one would paint
be invariably unvarying as a Swiss Alp.
The subtle nuanced worldview, where the sky
stretches from ceiling to a foot above ground, as
I lay prone neath the coverlet, vista always subtly differing,
from its prior reincarnation, self-reflection demands to know.
Alive & Awake? Yes.
Breathing steady? Yes.
Toes? Still can wiggly to & fro.
My soul?
Presumably ok, as I write, because I write, the
picture window into to my insight, though oft blurry,
yet intact, making discernible the changes in light,
temperature and heart rate, as the body/soul contraption modulates, just as the gradient of daylight shifts lighter and higher, with a rising sun bringing more clarity to our interactive encounters with our environments..
The picture window internalized, much the same,as
the vista, subtle modest changes, colorations variegated,
are registered. Today is mostly cloudy overcast, and shall remain so for the foreseeable future, which be about two days hence. Not unsurprisingly, methinks, the future tends to be cloudy.
Beyond that peripheral, no one can say, our macular envisioning only gets weaker,time is a tough taskmaster
and uncertainty is it’s own principle.
But I can say, forecast from well under the comforter,
that more than less, where less is more, this picture window,
ex and in, shall remain, unchanged for the remainder of my years that fortune shall provide, and will & would grant me awakenings to the ex-sight and in-sight of a sculpted landscape, of negative entropy, where disorder minimal.
My musings end here, unless you still wish, come the morrow,
what the marrow the day reveals, what the window will spill,
new and exciting, subtly unchanged, and always different.
Caution: The injection of caffeine may dramatically alter
the windows perspective, as the exogenous always trumps the
endogenous.
5:50 AM
P.S. Making coffee clarifies: If the vista in +/- unchanging,
then, all my personal, own horizons are immortal as well.
Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 6:34 AM UTC
Zombies are waddling toward their door.
Witches are cackling, black cats are scratching,
And the ghouls want brains and more.
But Brig and Ophelia aren’t scared yet,
They’re waiting inside,
Gobbling strange snacks while they hide.
It’s bugs they like to chew and gnaw;
And they love to eat their spiders raw,
Not fried with onions, like Granda;
Or served with broccoli, like Nana.
Not boiled with worms and creepy crawlers.
Ciaran eats those,
Not these crazed daughters.
Ophelia and Brig
Eat them raw,
Alive, not dead,
With wiggly legs and sharp jaws;
And wrapped up with mosquito heads
In white sticky spider webs.
They eat Black Widows soaked in goblin blood
And wicked witch’s poo;
Made from bats and rats and unschooled fools,
That witches eat to soften stools.
They eat fat spiders
Floating in soup,
That slide and wiggle
Down their throat.
They eat them with their mouldy cheese,
Melted over wasps and bees.
The girls fork down spider stew,
They love the taste “Tres beaucoup.”
The gravy’s made from a mummy’s spit,
And sweat that drips from a ghoul’s armpit.
They like their spiders spread on bread,
A feast to feed the risen dead.
When their snack is finally done,
They’ll pick their teeth and scrape their tongues
For Daddy Long Legs they didn’t eat.
The long legs caught between their teeth.
They'll use those legs to weave a wreath,
To trick flies and bugs and lonely spiders
Into their hungry House of Horrors.
Oct 30, 2023
Oct 30, 2023 at 11:06 AM UTC
The caterpillar looks like a wiggly worm...
With stripes of color, she makes me squirm...
She has patience while sitting upon a stem...
Dodging the animals, and legs of man...
Her color is vivid, of black, yellow and green...
She'll turn into a butterfly, her beauty to be seen...
by ~ Judy
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
I will not eat my greens
Oh Mummy please, don't serve me peas,
they make my tummy sad.
I hate the smell and taste as well,
just give my share to Dad.
Oh Mummy no, those sprouts must go,
they make my tummy hurt.
Even the cat, would not touch that,
and she eats bugs and dirt.
Oh Mummy stop, not carrot top,
it makes my tummy squirm.
for they are found beneath the ground,
with Mr Wiggly Worm.
Oh Mummy shoot, now comes the fruit,
that makes my tummy sore.
apples and pears cut up in squares,
oh please I beg no more.
Oh Mummy why, do you so try,
to make my tummy sick.
With carrot cake you often bake
because you say it's quick.
Oh Mummy cease, please give me peace,
and leave my tummy be.
So serve my plate, oh Mummy wait
there's nothing here for me.
Oh Mummy please, can I have peas
I heard my tummy cry.
Pile on the veg, right to the edge,
I will of each now try.
Oh Mummy yes, I've made a mess,
but look my tummy ate.
All that you made and was afraid,
I would leave on my plate.
So Mummy dear, I really fear,
my tummy will now burst.
I need a rest but let me test,
that yummy pudding first.
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 8:40 PM UTC
Kingsville, Texas, 1955
A loaf of bread from the Piggly Wiggly
A quart of milk because MawMaw forgot
A Coke and a Mickey Mouse funnybook
A water pistol and Eskimo Pies
A pack of PawPaw’s brand of cigarettes
So he can watch his Yankees this afternoon
On the Sylvania with the rabbit ears
In gloriously static-y black-and-white
Plays called by Dizzy Dean and PeeWee Reese
In our childhood world, forever at peace
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
A father's kiss.
For the very first time.
On my new born face.
A Mom's dawning smile
is the very first rainbow
that I ever saw.
Hanging there on her LOVING face.
Crying bliss pours out of my infant eyes.
Mommy and daddy, you are
my forever HEART!
God has given me ten tiny fingers.
Ten wiggly toes.
This sacred,
Mommy
and Daddy love fills me up so!
Fills me up with precious
Baby girl hope.
I am alive!
Mommy and daddy!
Look at me!
I have arrived.
Protected by your Parental DIVINE.
Feeling all this permeating beauty from my mommy and daddy expressed in giving LOVE.
After all, I am your baby girl gift from heaven above.
This is 'Ode to My Precious Baby Girl Love.'
Copyrighted 2016
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 1:28 AM UTC
Standing on a busy street corner
When a limo pulls up next to me
Out pops the head of Johnny Depp
(Not the body mind you, just the head)
And asks where's the nearest Dairy Queen
Not one to miss an opportunity
I blurted out I'll show you the way
So that's how the head of "The Depp" and I
Spent time together that day
In his limo he had his makeup artist
Which seemed a bit odd to me
Everywhere the head of Johnny went
It had to dress up for the scene
Since Johnny was drooling a Dilly
First stop Dairy Queen
With Johnny's head as the Mad Hatter under my arm
It was a very strange scene indeed
With me holding onto the Dilly's
And Johnny's head on the counter up front
Mr. Depp was the King at the Queen that day
Though his ice cream licking habit did turn some peoples lunch
Later on passing a Piggly Wiggly
Johnny's head said what's up with that
Told him it's nothing more than a grocery store
His reply was let's give it a crack
So undergoing more of his makeup
And in the blink of an eye
I have the head of Jack Sparrow
In the grocery cart with a bag of Funions by his side
Yes, Johnny Depp's head loves Funions
Which to me really ranks the breath
But who am I to tell a Big Time Movie Star that
I'm not the keeper of his head
He even dressed as Edward Scissorhands
Which didn't turn out quite right
Since Johnny's head has no hands
To hold the famous Scissorhand knives
That day we went to so many places
With every stop a new disguise
I guess for entertainment you do what you can
When all that's left is your head and some of your mind
Whelp, that's about it on this days adventures
Not a whole lot more to be said
As I stood on the street corner waving bye, bye
To the limo pulling off into the sunset, along with the head of Johnny Depp
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 8:19 AM UTC
Most of my time is spent in a Piggly Wiggly line
So you know the Hollywood rags I have seen
Scouring them inside out, top to bottom, back to front
I know all the skinny on all the skinny stars in-between
This day Mona in a Moo Moo says from behind me
Something about this must be done
So with the east in our rear (That doesn't sound right does it!)
Look out Hollywood California here we come
Not long after landing in Los Angeles
Before we even barely had time
We set up what "THEY" think is an organic juice hand squeezed by Virgin's
and Himalayan soy Sushi bar
Out of our Hot Dog cart on the corner of Hollywood and Vine
And yes, we've added a little secret ingredient
Something to fatten those Hollywood types up
So they'll look like the rest of us in America
With the line around the block it looks like they can't get enough
With a little dab here and a little sprinkle there (wink,wink)
Our food has become the talk of the town
You'd think they would have figured it out by now
As each delicious bite adds a few extra pounds
And menu items with names like
-Add Another Roll Sushi-
Or the...
-Don't Look Behind You Sushi Surprise-
Then there's our most popular item
The -California Your **** SuperSize-
Now that we've fattened up most of the Movie Stars and then some
California's so heavy it may soon slide into the sea
With a new concoction we've developed to stimulate brain juice's
We're now taking our Hot Dog Cart to Washington D.C.
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
Most of my time is spent in Piggly Wiggly lines
So you know the Hollywood rags I have seen
Scouring them inside out, top to bottom, back to front
I know all the skinny on all the skinny stars in-between
This day Mona in a Moo Moo says from behind me
Something about this must be done
So with the East in our rear ( That doesn't sound right does it )
Look out Hollywood California here we come
Not long after landing in Los Angeles
Before we even barely had time
We set up what "THEY" think is an Organic Juice Hand Squeezed By Virgin's
and Himalayan Soy Sushi Bar
Out of our Hot Dog cart on Hollywood and Vine
Of course we've added a little secret ingredient
Something to fatten those Hollywood types up
So they'll look like the rest of us in America
And with the line around the block it looks like they can't get enough
With a little dab here and a little sprinkle there (wink,wink)
Our cart has become the talk of the town
You'd think they would have figured it out by now
As each delicious bite adds a few extra pounds
With menu items with names like
Add Another Roll Sushi
or the...
Don't Look Behind You Sushi Surprise
Then there's our most popular item
The *California Your **** SuperSize*
Now that we've fattened up most of the Movie Stars and then some
California's so heavy it may soon slide into the sea
With a new concoction we've developed to stimulate brain juices
We're now taking our Hot Dog cart to Washington D.C.
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 4:28 PM UTC
Squiggly Wiggly
The good little squid named squiggly wiggly
Wasn’t always such a good little squid
Squiggly wiggly had to learn her lesson the hard way
She used to go about her business all Wiggly Jiggly
She didn’t have a care in the world she always acted like a kid
Her parents never knew what she was doing or where she would stay
Whenever she was on the playground she was always a bully
She never tried to be kind or polite she never did anything fully
Then one day she had a shock
She was out playing around the block
Along came a shark who gave her a blow
She fell so hard she had to stand up slow
Off she went to complain to the others
Everyone ignored her even her brothers
And so she learned from that mighty shock
That its never nice to hurt or mock
From that day on the squid named Squiggly Wiggly
Was always a very kind squid
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 9:53 PM UTC
You were made in March when the groundhogs sensed shadows
and the wine chilled itself in its glassy embrace
I was on whisky, watching late nights, and oh
The wires crossed and we did too near the fireplace
Winter shut the windows with its icy blast
and my rhythm quickened at Scene 4
where the door opened and the lady emerged
in a birthday suit and settled on the floor.
The cat scan showed your wiggly bits in May
and Momma smiled about the vortex of the man I made
growing plump and rich in a warmer climate inside
For nine long months the case of scotch disappeared
as you grew stronger and bulged out beautifully.
You were born in December when the lights went on
and Momma cuddled you chillfully!
In Jan you went to Nan. My impulses returned.
Feb came around rather quickly. A year gone
and a son born unblamed of the winter chill
or lusting whisky and late nights surging
outside/ inside wherever. I didn't name you
Jack Frost Junior for nothing.
There's a story behind every name, son!
Author Notes
Ha ha Ha.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
Wander from Argyle Street towards the pyramid shaped monolith
past the oddly named Benny Hamish - Sicilian Couture Tailors -
through the automatic glass doors of persuasion
up the revolving stairs of many stairs
sail by the portly security guard
(who looks like he'd be out of breath after a 10 yard dash)
along the imitation marble airstrip
passed neon facades and signs for proactive self indulgence
toward the carousel of smoked-mirror lifts
that take the well heeled to their desired destinations
without having to worry about their Chanel leather clutch bag
and newly purchased Christian Louboutin shoes
and I sit people watching,
writing this poem on a borrowed napkin
with a discarded betting shop pen
amid a horde of timid stomachs and twitching wallets
faced with a thousand fast food offerings
and gaudy coloured tables and chairs
littered in the remnants of repugnant non-ecological eateries
and Styrofoam cups and re-composite cutlery
under Noah's grotesquely beautiful steel ark
lined in industrial tubing and chrysalis shaped netting
and giant Art Deco toothbrushes
and 30 foot wiggly mirrors
and stretched rhombus sails
acting as a blanket barrier
to the blue skies and arched sun of the outside world
somewhere between
KFC and Burger King.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
This morning
as i was washing you off my face
i realized something.
i was thinking about everything
everything we ever said to each other
every thing we've done
or haven't done
since mid-december
and i stumbled upon the startling fact
that the variable i have been allowing
to dictate my happiness for almost three solid months
is not 6'0,
no.
he
is
2 inches tall.
that our torpid relationship
which was mostly just
torpid
(considering it was always sometime after
3am)
was just this little piece of dust
i'd gotten up my nose
that tickled for a bit.
i don't mean to be rude
(well....maybe)
but as my mother used to say
to a particularly
stubborn loose tooth
a young, wiggly thing
that was causing more pain
than it was worth:
out
you
come.
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
A Simple Walkway
By this device just an old ordinary taken for granted side walk there is no place it doesn’t lead
Hops scotch any one key skates on your shoes how they let you zoom oh the prints left there
A bike for Christmas feel daddy’s strong hands hear his feet running to keep up ever feel so freed
Remember when you were there playing mother walked by her perfume caused womanly fantasies
Up town on Saturday shopping day take the sidewalk get a haircut one two Jims the other to Dressings
Montgomery wards that great wide white stair way sports one floor clothes on the other
Get dolls toy guns all kind of assorted toys at Ben Franklin if not there find Woolworth’s full blessings
Whatever, hurry you know the Roseland will be starting the afternoon matinee action packed thrills
Live out the movies Carl Wessel Western Auto arrows fifty cents Coast to Coast BB guns
Can’t afford a bow take a mop stick and cut an inner tube into a strip nail on both ends watch her fly
If you’re not allowed to have even an air rifle use more inner tube a forked stick wa la slingshot what fun
Grocery shopping great on second St Piggly Wiggly or Wempen’s on the alley up from Bryson’s garage
Need shoes Summer’s store or Duez get a pair of Buster Browns this follow the side walk your welcome
If you just need a repair Ray does fine work Pen well’s store has all the dresses guaranteed no guessing
Hustle and bustle going on all over town activity nonstop great foot traffic go to town the past will come
You will stir up endless memories in this new time that could use those sweet happy times at the five
and Dime
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:38 PM UTC
It's Halloween!
by Michael R. Burch
If evening falls
on graveyard walls
far softer than a sigh;
if shadows fly
the sickled sky,
while children toss their heads
uneasy in their beds,
beware the witch's eye!
If goblins loom
within the gloom
till playful pups grow terse;
if birds give up their verse
to comfort chicks they nurse,
while children dream weird dreams
of ugly, wiggly things,
beware the serpent's curse!
If spirits scream
in haunted dreams
while ancient sibyls rise
to plague nightmarish skies
one night without disguise,
while children toss about
uneasy, full of doubt,
beware the Devil's lies . . .
it's Halloween!
Keywords/Tags: Halloween, graveyard, shadows, sickle, moon, witch, witches, goblins, serpents, spirits, ghosts, sibyls, Devil
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 5:32 AM UTC
It's summer here in Miami, Florida. The Jacaranda tree has violet flowers that fall and float on the tops of the moist jade grass. The Gardenia bush with bent branches is heavy with fragrant white flowers. Parsley, basil and dill are tall and flowering with bees pollinating them.
Numerous plump cherry tomatoes, with all their tingling flavor, hide among the leggy bushes. Green and scarlet bell peppers, smooth and crisp, hang on neighboring branches.
Several new baby birds are fledgling from nests while their parents protectively hover nearby. Two families of scarlet Cardinal birds greedily eat from our outdoor feeders. A flock of fifty Cherry Head parrots with their crimson shoulders and heads crack open black sunflower seeds.
Toads at night call to prospective mates sounding like broken air conditioners. Black wiggly bodies swim in clusters in the canal feeding on algae waiting to grow their legs and hop through the tall grasses.
Global mangoes growing and ripening on trees are large enough to sweeten the palette .
The sun is smiling warming the earth--the animals, plants and people. Steady rain quenches the thirst of all creatures. Nature is here for us to enjoy.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
I love your button nose
And your curly wavy hair
Your curious little fingers
And your wondrous blue eyed stare
Your giant little smile
And your laugh that melts my heart
Your wiggly little toes
And each and every part
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 12:45 AM UTC
Wiggly, wiggly Wollie,
Mattie makes monkey muffins,
Bad breaks blows buskins,
Pitching Patrick past Pollie.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 4:05 PM UTC