Tag Archives: spring

Bird Watch by Jackie Hosking

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I find it disconcerting
alarming and alerting
the unashamed asserting of their glee.

It is true they sound impressive
if not manic and aggressive
then undoubtedly excessive definitely.

Their reaction is confusing
as I’m not at all amusing
it’s my ego they are bruising carelessly.

Don’t they know it’s impolite
taking unabashed delight
cracking up at all in sight hysterically.

With their cacophonic chorus
piercing skin that’s thin and porous
you would think that they abhor us certainly.

But apparently this bird
whose refrain is so absurd
was created to confer a word of warning.

To the spirits who reply
to the Kookaburra’s cry
lighting up the inky sky at dawn each morning.

A Note for Poets: is it time for your submission to Jackie Hosking’s Spring Competition (deadline 30th November)

Image from Pixabay

Where’s My House by James Aitchison

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Every spring I lose my house —

it likes to disappear —

behind the flowers and bushes

that grow so fast round here.

No more bare old branches,

no more empty beds;

there’s greenery and colour

that everywhere turns heads.

Spring wakes up my garden,

puts magic in the air,

along with different scents

a-drifting here and there.

Springtime at an old miner’s cottage, Creswick, Victoria. Photo by Ginette Pestana

Hello, Daphne! by James Aitchison

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Hello, Daphne, by the fence,

aren’t your flowers full of scents!

You’ve been asleep all winter long,

now you’re blooming sweet and strong.

You spice the breeze and fill the air,

your flowers white, your fragrance rare.

The moment all your blooms appear,

you tell me that spring is here.

Photo credit Ginette Pestana

Abracadabra by Jenny Erlanger

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The tadpole’s now a frog – how strange!
and where’s that duckling gone?
It’s undergone some mystic change
and turned into a swan!
The caterpillar’s been reshaped,
been made a butterfly.
Once, just a bug, it’s now escaped
to navigate the sky.
Spectacular and free to see
in grasslands, trees and ponds
these wondrous acts of wizardry
require no magic wands.

Photo by Pixabay

Fields of Spring by Dianne Bates

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A wilderness of tea-trees

In our paddock playground

One free day in the midst of childhood

A day filled with everything

We are wild things,

Charging, ducking, hiding,

Flies swatting our sweaty faces

A dove, startled, flies up and

Petals fall like a sprinkle of rain

As we play

Cowboys and Indians

With imaginary guns

Bang! Bang! You’re dead!

Falling to the ground face-up

Wisps of clouds slide above

As if breathing in and out.

Photo from Pexels by jonas mohamadi

Jumping Into Spring by Marque Dobrow

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Upon arrival of September
There’s one thing I do remember:
Winter’s gone and spring is here
Bringing warmth back to the year.
Giving us more outdoor fun,
Extra time beneath the sun.
Walking barefoot on the grass,
Sipping fruit juice from a glass.
Football finals if you’re keen;
Horses racing on the green.
Pack your coats and gloves away,
Birds within your backyard play.
Birthing time for kangaroos,
Platypus and wombats too.
Blossoms grow with colours fair,
Pollen floating through the air.
Of spring I’m a great believer,
So why now must I have hay fever?
How can I smell a lovely rose
When suffering from an itchy nose?
I long to feel the evening breeze
Without an urge to cough and sneeze.
But let me cast those thoughts asunder;
Spring should be a time of wonder.
So sit beneath a shady tree,
Go watch the surfers at the sea.
I love the springtime sunset skies,
Albeit seen through teary eyes.