Flittering white wings of gossamer
Push away from the pull of grasses,
Searching for life in the orange centre of yellow petals.
A bouquet beckons.
Not that one,
A brief yes
Then push away again,
And then again.
Delicately crested quail leads his seed,
Preceded by his black asterisk sprouting ahead.
Brown spotted fluff-balls scamper helter-skitter,
Little legs blurring across the open garden fringe,
Girls settling onto cool soil then digging furiously
Creating a deep refreshing bowl,
With bits of food
Tricksters hide in the low rhododendrons
Bolting out to scare the bowl sitters.
Watchful hen chirps a boundary,
Coaxes her energetic dozen to this side
Then to that side
Of the wispy lattice deer fence.
Fluff-balls ricochet off the barrier,
Upset that they cannot move forward,
Until they find a gate to squeeze under.
Chubby fluff-ball, frustrated,
Reluctant to ruffle the fluff
Pokes a head in
But not through,
Marches with angry little legs
Back and forth along the barrier,
Finally pushes through the gate’s opening
To disappear into the crowd.
Crested quail, brash but ever watchful,
Chatters ownership of the garden
And proudly follows his contributions to Life.
Their weeks-long battle for supremacy
The end-of-the-row Sunflower
Bending deeply with the weight.
Then, in a last-week move,
Growing before your eyes
In the blazing sun,
The skinny one rises high
As the dethroned elder spreads the heaviest load
Stooping in age, with the seeds for more life.
The runt in the shadows
In brighter yellow flowers
And deeper brown seeds,
In the garden of life.
In the ever burning solar rays
Fragments of the all-encompassing mantel,
Beautiful poetry with an eye and heart to nature. Thank you.
Beautiful. You can feel the movement and being there…