Woodpecker drumming,
above the leafy carpet,
butterflies feign love,
sunbeams make elevators
where mosquitoes choose to dance
Filed under Factual, nature inspired, On the lines of romance, Self compositions, Tanka
Poetry from my pen
Ultimately, a real understanding of history means that we face *nothing* new under the sun.” – James Mattis
A little bit of everything
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my humanity in written form
A QUIRKY LOOK AT MODERN LIFE
Published in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Near to the Knuckle, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, and Shooter magazine.
Just another blog of random thoughts.
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to be worth sharing
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love each other like you are the lyric and they are the music
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Award-winning, dream-protecting author
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posting poetic prose
Love it.
And tiny children stretch their hands to catch the dust motes caught in sun-shafts that filter through the woodland leaves, and exclaim they’ve caught a fairy. Such is my earliest memory, and your poem has just now reminded me! I thank you. 🙂
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It’s great to evoke memories with just a hint, love the fairies, will try to see through child’s eyes more often.
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I then spent the rest of my young childhood knocking on beech trees to talk to the fairies that lived inside. Only in beechtrees, and they weren’t the most common in our woods. 🙂
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