Poetry Monday: Robin Red Breast

It's Poetry Monday, and this week's topic, provided by Delores, is . . . ROBIN RED BREAST.

Join Delores, Mother Owl and me in writing about one of the better known birds of North America and Europe.

You can leave your poem in the comments, or, if you post on your blog, please leave a comment so we can find you.

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In doing a bit of research for this week's poem, I found that the original "robin red breast" is the European robin, a member of the Old World flycatcher family.

It looks quite different from the red-breasted American robin that we see in North America, which is a member of the thrush family. Where the European robin is tiny and cute, the American robin is more robust and stocky.

European robin

North American robin (male)

(Both pictures scavanged, with thanks, from Wikipedia)



Last week I saw our first robins, who have just returned from warmer parts of the continent, and happily I was able to take a couple of pictures. I wanted to capture how nondescript the back of this bird is, and how bright its front is. Hopefully you can see that here:

Back:

He blends in very well with last year's dead leaves and dormant weed-lawn (which is different from a grass-lawn, as you probably guessed).

Front:

It's so much easier to see him from the front (and even though there IS some green in this shot, it's not grass either, it's moss. Tsk tsk. The Donkey household needs a big bag of grass seed and about a month of vacation time to plant a new back lawn.)

And here is my offering for this week:


Oh-Oh

O sturdy little robin
With chest so bright and red
Why do you stand and stare around
And tilt your little head?

O now I think I know why
And knowing makes me squirm
As suddenly you wield your beak
And grab a big fat worm

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Why, yes, I am a bit squeamish about watching Nature's children eat other Nature's children, when the "others" are still moving around. Bleh. But . . . everybody's gotta eat.

I almost forgot. Here's an audio clip for the European robin, ten minutes' worth (!) if you like :)

And here's an audio clip for the North American robin, clocking in at one minute forty seconds:

And that's all I have to say about robins 😀


Wishing everyone a great week, with more of the birdsong and less of the eating-live-prey kinds of situations . . .

It's my turn to suggest a topic for next week, so here it is:  SHOES . . . . . .

Good luck!

Poetry Monday: Spring Cleaning

It's Poetry Monday, people!

Join Delores, Mother Owl and me as we make a clean sweep of this week's topic . . . SPRING CLEANING.

You can leave your poem in the comments, or if you post at your own blog, please leave a note in the comments so we can find you.

This week I address the fact that due to illness I have missed two weeks of work and have several April 30 deadlines to meet -- yikes!


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And By "Dang" I May Mean Something Stronger

It's Spring, and I want to be in the fresh air
Not in the house where there's dust everywhere
I want to be seeing new fauna and flora
Not sweating through housework I loathe and abhorra 
I want to be capturing blooms with my camera
Not rolling my sleeves up and looking unglamora

But sadly both fun and spring cleaning I'll shirk
Because I must meet my dang deadlines at work

Thanks, Pixabay, source of free photos galore.

(I don't forget for a moment how lucky I am to have a job and the flexibility to stay home when I'm sick, just in case you wondered. Poetry, like prose, can be fiction, non-fiction, or somewhere in between 😀 )

Wishing you a good week in your corner of the world, whether it's spring or fall, whether you're enjoying nature or fighting the dust bunnies . . . I hope you are enjoying your life every moment possible.

Update:  Next week's topic, courtesy of Delores, is . . . ROBIN RED BREAST . . .

Hamsters Run Amok

Lying down to rest with this respiratory thing doesn't work very well -- it just makes me cough more -- so I've been sitting in front of the computer more than usual.

And look what I found from HelloDenizen on YouTube:

And this:

Kudos to the maker of these - he/she/they have gone to so much trouble and every detail is perfect.  There are more here if you are interested.

Enjoy!

Poetry Monday: Awakening

It's Poetry Monday!

Join Delores, Mother Owl, and me as we tackle this week's topic . . . AWAKENING. Please feel free to leave your poem (or a link to your poem on your blog) in the comments.


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Short poem this week. I'm still recuperating, and strangely enough I feel more tired now than I did when I was sicker. What's up with that? Drop in adrenaline? Delayed reaction? I have no idea.

I started three different posts for this topic, and finally figured out an "angle" that worked for me. There's something to be said for stubbornness - and living with cats :)


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If You Guessed "The Cat" You Get A Gold Star

Somebody's chewing my hair
Somebody's licking my face
Somebody's purring too loud
Somebody's got me awake

Somebody's walking upon me
Somebody's got laser eyes
Somebody's bound and determined
To make her Somebody arise

Not my cat, but exact same expression ...

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Next week's topic is . . . SPRING CLEANING . . . good luck!

The Continuing Saga. And More Funnies.

Thank you all for your good wishes and for being so nice about my whining and complaining - I'm only trying to amuse myself while I'm sick, so please don't worry about sympathizing with me yet again. Just read (or not) and then get to the good stuff :)

I just know you all have been on pins and needles waiting to find out how things went with my respiratory bug after Day 6. I am here to meet that need, folks.

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Day 7: My eyes feel like they've been over-inflated by an imp with a bicycle tire pump. Another imp is alternating using a hot pointy stick and a feather duster on my sinuses. My neck feels like my shirt collar suddenly shrank.. And my teeth are aching so much I have actually taken Tylenol, which is not a decision I make lightly. I'm still coughing; the kind of cough that sneaks up and grabs you without giving you a chance to even take a breath so you can cough and shakes you like it's a dog and you're a favourite dog toy.

Day 8:  Still coughing, but cautiously optimistic about having a future counted in more than hours. That's good, because I'm going to need that time to grow new skin on the raw places (nose, eyebags, lips, and hands).

Day 9: Aside from the coughing (probably something to do with my asthma) I'm going to trust (and knock on wood) that I'm on the mend now and no more diary updates will be needed. *knocks a few extra times just to be sure* *and then a few more times because I really want to be getting better* Leaving the cats wondering why I'm not answering the door.

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And now for more funnies! I've been collecting these from icanhas.cheezburger for quite awhile but since I've usually only been posting on Poetry Mondays, I haven't used them. Enjoy!

And since it is, after all, Friday . . .

 Wishing everyone a great weekend :)






  

Diary Of A Sick Donkey. And Funnies.

If you didn't catch my Friday post last week, you can go here for some background.

Day 1:  A simple sore throat. I don't think I'm going to get this bug as badly as my husband did.

Day 2:  Still just a sore throat. A tad worse, but still - I don't think this will be too bad.

Day 3:  Woke up with sandpaper in bronchial tubes. How did that get jammed down there? Still - not as bad as I would have expected judging by husband's illness.

Day 4:  Sandpaper and a cough; still - not horrible - must have stronger immune system than husband. I am still vertical and functioning.

Day 5: WHOA NELLY I'M DYING I'M DYING I'M DYING COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH

Night 5:  WHOA NELLY I'M STILL DYING THERE'S NO END TO THE COUGHING AND WHO INSTALLED A TAP IN MY EYES AND NOSE

Day 6:  PLEASE SOMEONE KILL ME I'VE GONE THROUGH ALL THE TISSUES I'M USING MY RESCUE INHALER I'M USING DECONGESTANT I CAN'T SEE I CAN'T BREATHE I CAN'T SMELL WHERE IS ALL THIS FLUID COMING FROM????

Day 7:  Stay tuned ..........


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I think we need some funnies now.

Well, *I* need some funnies anyhow.

(All lols courtesy of icanhas.cheezburger.com)


I hope you all have a healthy week, but if it's too late for that wish, I hope you all recover soon.

And if THAT's not going to happen either, I hope you at least have something to laugh at :)

Poetry Monday: Lace

It's Poetry Monday, and this week's topic is LACE.

Join Delores, Mother Owl, and me as we weave our poetic magic on this topic. I'm hoping Diane will be back in Blogland with her poetry soon; she is sorely missed. When life slows down a bit, I'm sure she will make an appearance.

We have some other regular contributors in the comments as well. If you want to officially join up with the poetry challenge, let me know and I'll put the link to your blog in this preamble. That way people don't need to sift through the comments to find you.

If you just want to contribute now and then when you have time or energy or a lightning bolt of inspiration (yee-haw! I love those), feel free to leave your poem (or a link to your blog) in the comments.

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Well, there were no lightning bolts of inspiration for me this week, but here's my poem anyway.

(I have GOT to start thinking about the poems I've already written before I make a suggestion for a topic! . . . Of course, picking a topic out of the blue does put me at the same disadvantage as everyone else, so maybe it's more fair - ha ha)

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Nature's Wintry Lace

I do not know the science
That causes ice to freeze
So thinly, so delicately
Rising as if by magic
From the damp winter earth

I only know
My eye
Sees lace

Taken just before dusk, February, 2018, looking directly down at some ice on the ground.

You can see the edge of the thicker ice about halfway down the frame, and below that the new ice crystals forming from the moisture in the ground. The "lacy" part in the bottom half of the frame was extremely thin and fragile and most of it was not actually touching the ground but was suspended above it.

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I've been waiting for over a year to use that photo!

Have a good week, everyone.

Next week's topic will be . . . . . . . . . AWAKENING . . . (courtesy of Delores).

Good luck, all.

Anticipation: Not Always A Good Thing

Our household has been infiltrated by the enemy.

Translation: My husband brought home a respiratory virus that laid him out on the couch for over a week, and it appears that it's my turn now. I'm still just at the sore throat stage, so there's only the splitting headache, all-over aches and pains, coughing up a lung, and nose running like a tap stages left to go. Thumbs up!

So I started thinking about the pros and cons of being the second person in a two-person household to catch the bug.

Pros:

You get to know in advance what fresh hell of symptoms awaits you each day and approximately how long you'll feel like dying.

You can stop sanitizing everything touchable because it's not going to keep you healthy now. Net gain of two hours free time per day, yay!

You can make the grocery store run for juice, soup, and kitty litter before you feel too awful to go.

Cons:

You get to know in advance what fresh hell of symptoms awaits you each day. Who wants Dread on top of Sick?

Your partner is still sick, so you don't feel right asking for help until you're sicker. This creates a dilemma. How sick is "sicker"? How do you know how your partner is feeling compared to how you're feeling? This is how martyrdom gets started. Can be incendiary. Handle with care.

When you make the grocery store run (you and your initial symptoms of the virus), you have to remember to sanitize the cart handle after you use it as well as before, because your conscience won't let you not do it. Admittedly, this is a small thing. But don't small things suddenly become big things when you're sick?


Meanwhile, the cats don't care who got sick first or who feels worse; they just want fed and their litter boxes cleaned. And if you're lying down, they want to lie on your chest because heated sleeping spots are one more thing cat slaves are good for.

Maybe having a dog would be easier.

. . . Then again, maybe not.




 

Poetry Monday: Clouds

Hi folks, it's Poetry Monday, and this week's topic is . . . CLOUDS.

Join Delores and me (and now a few regular contributors in the comments -- yay!) in pouring out our thoughts about those fluffy/puffy/wispy/massive/white/gray products of nature that hover above our heads occasionally or frequently, depending on where you live and what time of year it is.

You can leave your poem in the comments or post on your own blog; if you do the latter, please let us know in the comments so we can come along and read your offering.

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The first thing that always comes to my mind when I think of clouds is Joni Mitchell's iconic song "Both Sides Now" from her album "Clouds", with its evocative and haunting lyrics and melody. How can you know this song and not think of it when clouds are mentioned?

But as beautiful as those lyrics are (and they are certainly a poem, too, if anything ever was), I have to find my own perspective, and that's what Poetry Monday is for.

Looking for inspiration, I searched through some of the cloud pictures I've taken in the three years since I began blogging.

Early morning clouds with a jet contrail rising vertically through them

 

 

Early evening clouds rolling in next to our local Walmart

Banks of clouds making the windmills look tiny

 

 

Storm clouds blocking all but a smidgen of blue sky

 

 

A sky/cloud sandwich

So many of our days have complete cloud cover, like this . . .

 

 

. . . and others have no clouds at all, like this (hah! a non-cloud picture in a post about clouds!) . . .

 . . . but sometimes there's something completely different, like this . . .

 

. . . or this . . .

 

 

. . . or this . . .

 

 

. . . or even this, the remnants of a storm cloud, which cast an eerie glow all around.

And after pondering all those variations of clouds, here's how my poem turned out.



Clouds

For something that few, if any, people have ever touched,
Clouds get a lot of attention from the human race.
They bring us weather -- good, bad, and in-between,
And when it rains or snows, it does it in our face.
And so, we grown-ups look with watchful eyes at clouds;
And, with our plans in mind, wish for sun instead,
Unlike the young, who revel in the here-and-now,
And wish for rain, to splash; or snow, to sled.
 
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If you were to write a poem, a story, a paragraph, a sentence, or even a phrase about clouds, what would you say?

Wishing you the kind of week you wish for yourself, my friends.



Next week's topic will be . . . LACE . . .have fun :)