Hummingbird Feeder

Each morning, I gaze outside
hoping to catch a glimpse
of a flitty, flighty little bird
suckling the prepared nectar
from the red ring
of the plastic container
swaying in the gentle breeze.

You see, I prepared
this favorite cocktail
of the hummingbirds
hoping to lure them
into my sightline
for a distraction
from the day to day drudgery.

What a smile it would bring,
seeing these little creatures
exhaustively hanging in mid-air,
getting their fill while latched on
to this container of sweet sustenance.
But alas, none have caught the scent,
and I continue to wait each morning.

Shit Happens

Inspired by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix

My husband needed help in the pasture; graciously, I offered to lend a hand. There was a massive heap of cow shit needing mucking from the stall. 

I thought I forgot my wedding ring. Nope, it had fallen off. Disgusted, I slowly began to dip my hand into the pile.

Reblog – kingfisher by Ken Gierke

With simple, elegant words and a wonderful visual, this piece is so touching! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 🙂

rivrvlogr

kingfisher
finds morning beauty
wild iris

This haiku is my response to Frank Tassone’s
#Haikai Challenge #144: wild iris
.

Image source: Wikimedia Commons
Iris and Kingfisher, by Ohara Koson

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The Hunt

The hunt leader ordered the release of the dogs at the edge of the property. The predator’s anticipation began to grow as they spread out in the direction of their prey. An occasional shot to flying creatures would occur, too, as evidenced by a stray feather on the ground here and there. Each shot would send the animals further out as they realized demands for their untimely death were required on these days. Hunters would force them to flee; the plan was working. 

A fox hiding read on the faces of the hunters that their goal was four kills each.

Reblog – The Sound of Songbirds by Penny Wilson

This piece magically transports me to this beautiful, serene place. Enjoy!

Penny Wilson Writes

To listen 
to my heartbeat 
and feel my lungs 
fill with air. 

To have nothing 
I have to do 
no place 
I'm expected 
to be. 

I want to listen 
to the 
quiet. 

The noise 
of this world 
has grown  

and I cannot endure 
much more. 

I wish to listen
as the stars 
find their path 
across the sky. 

I want to watch 
the morning dew 
dissipate 
with the rise 
of the sun. 

The sound 
of songbirds 
is enough 
for me. 

Copyright 2020 Penny Wilson

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Arthur Rosch

pxhere.com

Dewdrops on spiderwebs:
sit lightly with life.

~~

The tree limb
from which the bird has flown
rocks in early morning light. 

~~

A solitary raindrop
at the beginning of a shower
loses itself in the pond. 

~~

The world spins like a riddle
through the space of its answer. 

~~

The beast of the cosmos staggers,
wounded by the weapon of its own life.

~~

Eclipse:  the silhouette of a leaf
surrounded by the sun’s rays.

~~~

Arthur Rosch is a writer, musician and photographer. His photography was recognized by the United Nations and his first novel, Confessions of an Honest Man, received an award by Writer’s Digest. You can find it on Amazon and his Photography at 500px Free e-book at Smashwords, The Road Has Eyes, a travel memoir. You can read Write Out Of My Head, the Blog: http://www.artrosch.com

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