A Thing Called a Poem

Red breasted robin returned today;
followed by a rattling, rambunctious
red-winged black bird babbling
in tall rushes, tails puffed to seed.

Skies a sapphire shade speak of spring;
while tree buds are tucked tightly away
holding their breath, waiting to reveal
their packages of cashmere blooms.

Well known is early arrival can crush
and destroy a flourishing crop of fruits;
so are a poet’s words scattered across 
an empty page waiting, waiting, waiting.

Words gathered in a nest after long,
chilled winter; thoughts, inspirations
and musings ready to sprout forth
blooming songs from the poet’s heart.

Talking about poetry today…https://earthweal.com/
P. Wolf, poet & author

14 Comments

  1. I love this poem, especially your closing stanza….the nest of words, the songs from the poet’s heart. Wonderful.

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  2. I smiled at the title, Patti; it called have been called all sorts of things, but we settled on ‘poem’. I love the way you explore inspiration in nature, and the wonderful sounds you create in the lines:
    ‘…a rattling, rambunctious
    red-winged black bird babbling
    in tall rushes, tails puffed to seed’
    and the comparison of spring’s arrival with ‘a poet’s words scattered across an empty page waiting, waiting, waiting’.

    Like

  3. Lovely! How deeply one senses poems blooming in the heart after a long wait. Those are the best songs … Thanks for sharing at earthweal – Brendan

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  4. ‘so are a poet’s words scattered across
    an empty page waiting, waiting, waiting’
    Waiting for spring like the animals in anticipation. I love all of the poetic inspiration provided by the season!

    Like

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