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!

Snakes on a Log

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Snakes sunning on log

Enjoy summer’s heat // and frogs

Fresh out of pea soup

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Photo Dwight L. Roth

With the onset of summer heat before spring is over, Frank Tassone asked us to write a Haikai poem eluding to summer heat. These snakes sunning themselves reminds me that there are some who love summer time heat!

Join us at: https://frankjtassone.com/2019/06/01/haikai-challenge-88-6-1-19-summer-like-natsumeku-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/

Little Green Blob

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The potatoes were done // it was time for the meat
I took off the grill cover // prepared for some heat
But there by the lid sat a small blob of light green
Just staring at me // wondering if I would scream
He startled me at first // this tiny little man
With big bulging eyes and perfect little hands
Hiding from the rain //he crawled under the cover
Staying dry and warm // ‘til night’s rain was over
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I knew he had to go // frog legs not on the menu
With the flick of my hand he stretched out his sinews
In one flying leap he sailed through the rails
Landing in the grass // putting himself in peril
The next day I went out //after the grill had cooled
Picked up the cover to put over the hood
As I spread it out // I felt a cold slime
Hiding in the cover was a froggy of lime
This time I jumped back // it was totally unexpected
I smiled when I saw him // he sat there and waited

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today, Grace at d’Verse suggested we work with rhyming patterns in our poem. This is my poem about the little tree frog that took up residence under my grill cover. I did not follow any suggested poetic form as was suggested. I simply wrote a free verse poem that had rhyming end words.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

 

Frogs of Spring

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Shivering in the grip of winter
Avoiding the cold wind
I sit in my chair and remind myself
That soon this too will end
When the hoarfrost is gone
With the ever rising sun
The earth will thaw
The woods will ring
With a hauntingly familiar hum
A chorus of frogs
Singing their mating calls
Looking for one another
To celebrate the thaw
When I hear that song rising
In the cool clear air
I know spring is near
Flowers will soon be here
As frogs of spring shout out their joyous song
Joy springs in my heart
I know it won’t be long
Till with the frogs of spring
I too will sing along
With that symphony of joy by the woodland’s throng

Impasto Oil Painting: Dwight L. Roth

This evening is open link night at d’Verse.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

It Won’t Be Long

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With the East Coast of the U.S. stuck in the deep freeze, I thought that it might be good to remember that spring is just around the corner.  When I hear the frogs in the late evening I will know the worst is over. I guess I am just dreaming of warmer weather!

 Frogs of Spring  

Shivering in the grip of winter

Avoiding the cold wind…

I sit in my chair and remind myself

That soon this too will end.

When the hoarfrost is gone

With the ever rising sun…

The earth will thaw.

The woods will ring

With a hauntingly familiar hum.

A chorus of frogs

Singing their mating calls…

Looking for one another

To celebrate the thaw.

 

When I hear that song rising

In the cool clear air…

I know spring is near

Flowers will soon be here.

 

As frogs of spring

Shout out their joyous song,

Joy springs in my heart.

I know it won’t be long…

Till with the frogs of spring

I too will sing…

Along with that symphony of joy

By the woodland’s throng

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Creeks

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Creeks were made for little boys

Who love digging in the sand

Creeks rippling along singing as they flow

Calling all who are young at heart

To come explore hidden treasures

Found buried in the sand

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Hidden under rocks

Crawfish and minnows

Turtles and frogs

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Dam construction always a fun project

Watching the water rise above your ankles

Feeling the sand squishing between your toes

Yes creeks were made for little boys & little girls

No matter how old they become

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

 

 

Frogs Will Soon Be Singing

Froggie

 Frogs of Spring  

Shivering in the grip of winter

Avoiding the cold wind

I sit in my chair and remind myself

That soon this too will end

 

When the hoarfrost is gone

With the ever rising sun

The earth will thaw

The woods will ring

With a hauntingly familiar hum

 

A chorus of frogs

Singing their mating calls

Looking for one another

To celebrate the thaw

 

When I hear that song rising

In the cool clear air

I know spring is near

Flowers will soon be here

 

As frogs of spring shout out their joyous song

Joy springs in my heart

I know it won’t be long

Till with the frogs of spring

I too will sing along

With that symphony of joy by the woodland’s throng

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Morning Calls Me

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Morning Bursts Forth

Morning bursts forth in all its radiant glory

Peering into the dark sheltered woods

Highlighting the trees dancing on flowers

The stepping stones draw me to the trees

To the mysterious woods sheltering the creek

Turning to mush in summer’s heat

Frogs buried in the mud keep cool

Sending out their sharp croaks

Calling for someone to hear

Morning breezes soon shift

To a sauna of heat and humidity

But for now the glorious morning rests

On the yellow buttercups

Red salvia bathes in the sunlight

Reaching toward the heavens

Calling me to come join them

In the exhilaration of the beckoning day

morning-beconning-me-to-come

Painting and Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Summer Morning

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Morning Bursts Forth

Morning bursts forth in all its radiant glory

Peering into the dark sheltered woods

Highlighting the trees dancing on flowers

The stepping stones draw me to the trees

To the mysterious woods sheltering the creek

Turning to mush in summer’s heat

Frogs buried in the mud keep cool

Sending out their sharp croaks

calling for someone to hear

Morning breezes soon shift

 to a sauna of heat and humidity

But for now the glorious morning rests

 on the yellow buttercups

Red salvia bathed in the sunlight

reach toward the heavens

Calling me to come join them

In the exhilaration of the beckoning day