early bird
ready or not
the iron is hot.
lead the way
leaden thought,
laden with words
unspeakable.
the early bird is hunting,
the late bird is full of seeds,
nesting nearby, in the trees.
Dusty rose dreaming
~ inspired by a poem written by my friend, the late painter/poet Chris Nancarrow Dusty rose powdered like city girls she wrote of the wild rose that grows along the gravel road winding up her windows and following the Esso truck A painter would know the wild rose colour by heart I suppose to mix in her palette the rose covered cottage, the pink budding blooming perpetually, reflected in rose coloured glasses, the same hue as the quince jelly lining the pantry shelf come September, and the prize ribbon winning raspberry jam too. That colour of morning, soft rose on the horizon Summer shimmering, rosy dawn slowly rising. write a poem that repeats or focuses on a single color.
Love this lyrical bird word poem!
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