Virgninia Bluebells Egg
Saturday morning early in the city
Is a jungle concert of bird song,
Demanding and rhythmic
High and energetic and persistent.
The sun takes its place
at the edge of the world.
Birdsongs begin to dwindle
Replaced by the regular roar
of the lion buses
and the hissing of the hyena cars
in the street below.
Finally the footsteps of man with dog,
The muddy voices below,
A tea kettle whistle from an open window.
I'm up, alright, already!
Ugh! The sounds of the city.
ReplyDeleteNice Easter egg.That's one way to color eggs without the mess.
Nice digital artwork! Loved the poem :)
ReplyDeleteEaster blessings!
I don't know, Tabor. I wouldn't let them shove me around like that.
ReplyDeleteSounds to me like you've recaptured your creativity in a big way. I especially love the the egg.
ReplyDeleteWay cool photo egg!
ReplyDeleteNice imagery in the poem too ... happy Sunday to you.
Tabor, Your creative juices are flowing fine and freely.
ReplyDeleteThe muse is with you.
Loved the poem and picture.
nice poem
ReplyDeleteColleen had given me a poetry exercise and I started working on it and then encountered some roadblocks, so put it aside for now, and decided to work on a 'quick and dirty' ditty.
ReplyDeleteThe egg was also an accident. I had a lovely bluebell photo, but thought I should do something different for the holiday.
i have some eggs that need coloring .. wanna come around and make 'em so pretty that i won't want to eat 'em?
ReplyDeleteGrrlScientist