The Woodland Symphony

Music pours out from shadow and tree

Calling us all to enjoy a reprieve

A melodious symphony straight from the heart

Each tiny instrument playing its part

Miniature voices in perfect pitch

Unwritten scores of notes that are rich

Filled with a beauty beyond man or pen

A symphony of music that will never end

Mocking birds solo sopranos and basses

Finding their notes in so many spaces

Piccolo warblers and wren solos start

Antiphonal melodies straight from the heart

The bassoon bull frog comes in now and then

Cicadas’ strings play background blends

Crickets and blue jays fill the air

The snare of the trees adds depth to the pair

Woodpeckers drumming on old hollow trees

A staccato rhythm that floats on the breeze

Suddenly right out of the blue

The feline conductor brings all in on cue

With a growing crescendo from blue jay and friend

Celloed instruments calling, “This is the end!”

The squirrel plays percussion with his raspy scolding

As the woods fills with music the finale’s unfolding

A thunderous applause from the balcony on high

Brings all to their feet flashes crossing the sky

The concert is over the conductor’s gone home

Performers take bows the music is gone

*****

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Peter asked us to think about sounds that come alive in our poetry. This poem was written quite awhile ago and seems to fit prompt well. I could just picture and hear all the actions going on as I sat under the trees one morning listening to the birds above me. The cat caused quite a stir as he came wondering around.

Peter asked us to upload a reading of our poem. Since my free blog won’t allow me to upload a recording you will have to use your imagination on this one.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com Click the Mr. Linky link to read and listen to other poets.

Woodland Symphony

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Music pours out from shadow and tree
Calling us all to enjoy a reprieve
A melodious symphony straight from the heart
Each tiny instrument playing its part
Miniature voices in perfect pitch
Unwritten scores of notes that are rich
Filled with a beauty beyond man or pen
A symphony of music that will never end

*

Mocking birds solo sopranos and basses
Finding their notes in so many spaces
Piccolo warblers and wren solos start
Antiphonal melodies straight from the heart
*
The bassoon bull frog comes in now and then
Cicadas’ strings play background blends
Crickets and blue jays fill the air
The snare of the trees adds depth to the pair
Woodpeckers drumming on old hollow trees
A staccato rhythm that floats on the breeze
*
Suddenly right out of the blue
The feline conductor brings all in on cue
With a growing crescendo from blue jay and friend
Celloed instruments calling, “This is the end!”
The squirrel plays percussion with his raspy scolding
As the woods fills with music the finale’s unfolding
*
A thunderous applause from the balcony on high
Brings all to their feet flashes crossing the sky
The concert is over the conductor’s gone home
Performers take bows the music is gone

*

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

This is a painting and poem are from a few years ago.  I wrote this as I sat under the trees listening to all that was going on above me. I love the idea of the birds and animals creating an orchestral piece brought on by the neighbors cat!

Our Dear Cat Tiger

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Some of you may have already read this when I posted this a year or so ago.  Today we are to write about our pets at d’Verse. This is the best poem I have about our cat named Tiger, who lived with us for 15 years.
Tiger Cat
The runt of the litter a striped gray and black
A cute little kitten to take along back
Playful and funny he sure entertained us
It wasn’t long till Tiger made a big fuss
Bigger and stronger he raced through the house
Upstairs and downstairs chasing imaginary mouse
Not in the morning, not in the evening, but at 10:00 at night
Waiting at the rail giving me a big fright
Neurotic and nervous he licked and coughed
Oh, no! Oh Shoot! He’s up on the loft
Creating giant hairballs so yukky and soft
But Ruth didn’t hesitate she picked him right up
Grabbing him quickly she must interrupt
Off to the laundry to cough on the paper
Hoping to get there to end this bad caper
An independent soul he was always so moody
I’ll come to you when I am good and ready
Saying, “Don’t pick me up unless I tell you!”
Any other time I’ll scat and you’ll be blue
Engines purring he climbs up in my lap
Settling down for his short cat nap
I’ll sleep, he’ll sleep and then he’s gone
While I am still snoring as I sleep on
He’ll be roaming the house while he’s all alone
He thought he was sneaky but we knew better
Our bed was a no no and he was a fretter
Climbing on our bed while we were away
That warm spot that indent we knew where he lay
It’s me for a nap but it’s Ruth who he loves
The feeling is mutual as she gives him soft rubs
Sometimes I am jealous of this moody feline
Especially when he cuts in and takes up my time
Tiger came first on many occasions
Knowing he was the king our special obsession
For sixteen years he watched out the window
Then ran to the door as we said hello
We were grieved when he left us it was time to move on
But we loved him dearly and are sad that he’s gone.

***

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

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The Last of the Berries

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My pyracantha bushes were loaded with berries this summer. As winter came on, and food got scarce, the birds gradually began eating them. Today I was delighted to see three bluebirds on the bushes feeding on the last of the berries. I am thinking that they might be migrating north already.  We are expecting warm weather this week in the high 60 F and maybe even 70 F. Spring is on the way!

Bluebirds stop and eat

Last of the summer berries

Food for the journey

 

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

I am linking this to the Monday Haibun for Frank Tassone’s prompt spring.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

https://www.bing.com/search?q=do+bluebirds+migrate&form=EDGSPH&mkt=en-us&httpsmsn=1&msnews=1&plvar=0&refig=ebece0541fe1475587a805c38217930d&sp=-1&pq=do+bluebirds+migrate&sc=8-20&qs=n&sk=&cvid=ebece0541fe1475587a805c38217930d

Symphony

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Nature’s Music

The Woodland Symphony
Music pours out from shadow and tree
Calling us all to enjoy a reprieve

A melodious symphony straight from the heart
Each tiny instrument playing its part
Miniature voices in perfect pitch
Unwritten scores of notes that are rich
Filled with a beauty beyond man or pen
A symphony of music that will never end

Mocking birds solo sopranos and basses
Finding their notes in so many spaces
Piccolo warblers and wren solos start
Antiphonal melodies straight from the heart

The bassoon bull frog comes in now and then
Cicadas’ strings play background blends
Crickets and blue jays fill the air
The snare of the trees adds depth to the pair
Woodpeckers drumming on old hollow trees
A staccato rhythm that floats on the breeze

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Suddenly // right out of the blue
The feline conductor brings all in on cue
With a growing crescendo from blue jay and friends
Celloed instruments calling, “This is the end!”
The squirrel plays percussion with his raspy scolding
As the woods fills with music // the finale’s unfolding

A thunderous applause from the balcony on high
Brings all to their feet // flashes crossing the sky
The concert is over the conductor’s gone home
Performers take bows // the music is gone

******************************************************

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today I am sharing one of my favorite poems that I wrote while sitting in the chair in the photo above. It is open link night at d’Verse Poets tonight. We are free to post a poem of our choosing. Hope you enjoy my Woodland Symphony.

https://dversepoets.com