The Green Starling
When you look at the green starling
it screams in the long grass,
gleams green in the morning dew
and catches your eye
as it comes out of a hole, out of a tree,
as it picks up insects at a small stream
as it comes out,
as it comes out
as if caught in your daydream.
When you look at the green starling
it sparkles here and there
as if it sometimes is holding onto rays
and it warbles
stretches out under the sun,
view it as a red balloon
stretches out
stretches out
and it would fly away if it could.
When you look at the green starling
it pecks at a sorrel
when at times it holds onto a big worm
before it sings a song of joy
flies up fluttering, spreading its wings
and for moments distract you,
flies up fluttering
flies up fluttering
and so a whole mornings swishes past.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The hoopoe
Every time that I mow the lawn
he waits in a tree
on me to finish
and there are times
that he gets impatient
and his hoopoe resounds.
Just when I walk away
he flies fluttering down
and pecks everywhere
to get worms
and insects
and I see his orange brown quiff
standing up
and it’s as if his body
glows shimmering orange
and there are black and white stripes
going to the points
of his wings
while like a woodpecker
he hits his bill
here and there into the ground
and like a chicken
pecking up seed
picks up insects from the ground.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Birth Of The Yellow Butterfly
on the gumamela leaf
the small cocoon hangs
there for days and
you wait for the
usual surprise in this
garden
it wriggles out and
pulls itself from
a tight house
it holds itself at the
tip of the leaf and
gets a fan from
the wind and then
stretches itself
and spreads its
wings and finally
flies away
how beautiful
to see
the birth of another
yellow butterfly
regally erect and
flutters from flower
to flower like she
were a princess
in her green castle
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I am here
Supposing I became the cool breeze that slipped
through your early morning window brushing your day and cheek awake,
would you know me then wrapped around you holding you safe?
Supposing I became the gentle sun that broke your first steps
into the working week, would you know me there
on the pavement warm beneath your feet?
Or perhaps the starling in the sky above
or the heron by the low running creek
or the purple thistle by the rugged path
which holds you standing
watching the fluttering wings of a butterfly landing.
Would you know me then?
For I am here in all nature's bounteous gifts.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Ode To The Green Grass Of Summer
green green grass
spreading slowly on the path
of my feet
treaded upon
such green beauty
covering once
this dust, this mud,
this plain expanse
of ugliness
i sing the song
of green green grasess
spreading thinly on
the pavement
grasshoppers
and ants and some worms
yes, the green green grasses
are still their home
patches of earth
from far
you may see
this stitches
of moss
a landscape
of this earth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When Tree Branches Rub Against The Roof
When tree branches rub against the roof
the small bulbul runs past
during the afternoon hour
to the pool where it dives and rolls,
stretches out wings and shoot them out straight,
walking boldly up and down
stretches out wings,
stretches out wings
as he walks to and thro.
When tree branches rub against the roof
a light breeze blows,
while the sun burns hot as fire
and the neighbouring child calls
when the afternoon comes with its peace,
with thoughts from the past
when the afternoon comes,
when the afternoon comes
and sometimes I forget the present.
When tree branches rub against the roof
birds peck around everywhere
while moments are lingering
as leaves blow to the ground,
and I think of God as if He is here,
while the shades bring a kind of tranquillity
and I think of God
and I think of God
and find some deeper meaning to life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Green, green and green
I want a holiday with a scene
Of green, green and green
A summer of green trees
A landscape of green grass
A view full of green vegetables
The colour green
Is a beauty that must be seen!
From a moving vehicles screen
And while we hold onto those machines
That deprives us of the colour green
Remember they provide us vaccines
As well as help the air to be clean
So for green, green and green
I will travel continents across and in-between
And also to any place that I have never been
I will make it routine
Just to see green, green and green
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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From A Train
Green and green; and evergreen
in my all, and scurrying
in flickered films
of glimpses, painted green...
and a car in the lane silently shimmers,
as I hear the morning swaying past trees that,
green over green,
silently guard the wet summer sadness,
where cattle stare at the hopping rooks
and do not know
of the things that have been...
or care.
Cloudly and bright:
passing the green.
Where, in my remembrance of once long ago,
I felt the mist
rising unseen from the grass
that was green between green
when we kissed.
So I hum a small phrase
that carries my thoughts
ever and onwards,
listlessly flowing
like the world that is passing
the window beside me
all behind all, so totally green
and all in my knowing
and all in my all
and all in my green.
poem by Peter Jones
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In The Rainy
In the rainy, in my village
It`s good to see
Green grasses around,
Corn fields looking green
With rice plants growing
Vegetable plants are with flowers and fruits,
In morning and evening
Dew on grass, on leaves
Looks like....
Clouds sail,
Cover the blue sky
But when it rains
Changes everything,
Thatch roofs as waterfalls
Let the water fall down
Making some sound.
Dragon-flies move here and there,
Sit on a grass
And challenge one to capture
But when a hand moves
It flies far and again
Sits there to joke.
poem by Satyabrata Barik
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Starling
The starling in the ivy now,
For to amuse his dear,
Mimics the dog, the cat, the cow,
Blackbird and Chanticleer.
The starling's an accomplished mime:
Between his love-making
He solaces her brooding-time
By many a madcap thing.
He is the saw, the spade, the scythe,
He rings the dinner bell;
Chuckles of laughter, small and blithe,
Of self-laudations tell.
Now by the battle-field he mocks
As though 'twere but a game,
Thunder with which the belfry rocks
And the great bursts of flame.
Till when the merriment will pall
He turns to love again,
Calling his love-sick gurgling call
Above the dying men.
Who knows what dream the starling weaves
Of boyhood, soft and clean?
A small room under golden eaves
To which the sun looks in.
The starling's talking in the thatch,
Bidding the boy arise;
And the door's opening on the latch
To show -- his mother's eyes.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Green, Green, and More Green
There is green everywhere,
even in peoples' hair.Some
on hands, some on shirts.
There is green everywhere!
Green, green, and more green.
I think I'm going crazy over green.
If you don't wear green you get pinched,
then you'll start to itch.
So many people are obsessed with green.
Green Spring, green air.Green feet, green wheat, green meat.
Green isn't very neat!
poem by Autumn Howard
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March Mornings
It sings to me
- the tree, the window tree.
Its leaves open as melodies
to the sheen of Spring.
It speaks to me
its words of green,
says now is the time
for everything.
It fills my dreams
with hopes and things,
making me believe
in what is yet to be.
The tree, the window tree,
brings the birds to me.
Songs come fluttering,
sliding on sun beams.
It dances the breeze,
smiles for me
on mornings like these
- absolutely free.
It sings to me
- the tree, the sweetgum tree.
Its leaves open as memories,
like love to me.
poem by W.I. Stoneberger
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Green Bananas
Does anyone eat green bananas?
then why have them in the stores?
By the time you think of eating one ripe!
they're full of fruit flies, in the hundreds or maybe more!
My husband loves green bananas
he says, cause they're solid and much more flavorful.
I think they taste kind of green and bitter
with every green and bitter mouthful!
I wonder if monkeys eat them green?
Or do they also wait until they're ripe?
Just peeling them when they're green
leaves those long stringy things of white!
I've taken to freezing mine now
in plastic bags, for my daily protien shakes!
Now I don't have to worry about the ones that turn black!
From the green ones that I wouldn't take!
poem by Linda Winchell
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The Rim Of Green
Green panties, green roses
green tits, green milk.
Green moon, posies in green.
green eyes, green full lips
green face, cheese, green..
Green around the rim,
green limes can but erupt...?
poem by Is It Poetry
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Bethany
In the grey mist of an English dawn,
the starling stamps and prods and probes
and generally disturbs
the lawn,
seeking to confirm
an English proverb.
Beneath the green of an English lawn,
the patient worm
catches
the bird.
In this numbing
cosmic dance,
each one gives
and takes his chance
to feel and find
in flesh and mind
the ambiguous secrets of becoming.
poem by Brian Taylor
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last day of spring
a pair of butterflies
fluttering
in and out of the silence
that stretches between us
tanka by Chenou Liu
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last day of spring
a pair of butterflies
fluttering
in and out of the silence
that stretches between us
tanka by Chenou Liu
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Monroe Louisiana
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
So green, green
Wet-luscious green and alive
So green after the rain
So bright green and clean
Just passing through
On my way to tomorrow
But so green today and yesterday
It was on that stranger's green, green farm
And I didn't stay long
And I didn't expect someone
To fire that shotgun right next to me
The barrel pointed out the front door
Into that green, green world beyond.
There were hot springs
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
Back in 1973.
poem by M.L. Squier
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Virginia is for Lovers :)
A lovers paradise and everyone's dream
Virgina is the land of melodic theme
Where lovers unite and passion grows
Where cardinals sings..and the river flows
The green and gold that stretches high
The sun that sets and birds that fly
Where Harley's on the mountains ride
And deers are spotted along the side
Where landscape stretches miles away
And farmers work all night and day
Where flowers bloom, sing and dance
Virginia is a place for Romance
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Not Able To Recall Each Word Anymore...
yes, we burn all the leaves
we do not really like to see the ashes on the ground
so we summon the rain
to spread the foul smell of the dead
thin
and unrecognizable and we ask the grass
to spread
as quickly as possible
to cover the tracks
and then that summer what we see
we like to see
green grass, blue sky, fresh air
flying birds, fluttering green butterflies
we love those conversations
though we do not recall each word anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Green Bean On The Third Day
green bean
after two days
it's a Q as it
stretches to
strip itself of
its green outfit
- to greet a fresh
new world
on the third day
a little girl has
taken over
the ground
her butterfly
headband floats
jumps in the wind
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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