September 28

Paper Wasp on Goldenrod


It’s always a surprise to see

Not sure why I’m surprised to see

Wasps fly from flower to flower

– – – – – I am not scared

Is it the lack of hair that scares?

Slick pollinators causing dread

It’s always a surprise, you see

– – – – – I am not scared

Simply observe, no one gets stung

Evil’s in the beholder’s eye

Marvel at nature’s keen brilliance

– – – – – I am not scared


(A Baccresieze Poem)

Wasp Pollination

September 26

Fearful Cocoon of Ego


Monarch butterfly floats

Flower to flower, over trees

Around leafy branches, between grass blades.

With feet on solid earth I watch afraid

I will never know gliding on the breeze.

But what if I devote

Time spent fearing to a mindful crusade

Each heartache a flower, I see

The plight as antidote.

In lieu of fear promote

Discomforts as a force esprit

All feelings as weightless escapade.


A Bragi Poem inspired by Pema Chodron’s following words from The Places that Scare You:

Although we have the potential to experience the freedom of a butterfly, we mysteriously prefer the small and fearful cocoon of ego.”

September 18

Sicyos angulatus


The bur cucumber

Winds its way

Across fence lumber

Tendrils stray


An annual vine

On display

Hairy stems that twine

Prevent sway


Flowers licked by bees

On pathway

Spiny fruits don’t please

Deer today.


(A Cromorna Poem)

September 22

Bittersweet (Celastrus orbiculatus)


The day autumn descends

On the northern hemisphere I wander

My favorite trail noticing the autumn colors just emerging.

Native wildflowers abuzz with bees and bugs and birds. Equally beautiful

Are the strangers to this forest, this meadow, this trail.


They’re beautiful but they’re destructive


These plants distract wildlife from the sustaining meal.

They colonize our woodlands.

Dominating our disturbed soils left after progress

Moved through. They’re controlled in their homelands

By soil fungus, airborne disease or leaf eating insects

But here along this trail as far as the eye can see they are unchecked.

To that eye untrained they are part of this splendid autumn landscape.


They are destructive but they are beautiful.


Cannot stop global trade introducing

These plants to our nature. Cannot

Eradicate the unwelcome guests like so many ants

To a spring kitchen. Cannot stop the birds with a new found taste

From feeding and dropping exotic seeds.

Cannot just breathe and take in the beauty?


They’re beautiful, but they’re destructive.


(A Bop Poem)

September 19

6 Poems 1 Picture


What did we do while waiting

Time once spent ruminating

Now cell phones are dictating


(An Englyn Poem)


Eyes lowered, sneakers tapping, chairs creaking

Speaking is not what we do

Waiting to be called by you


(An Englyn Penfyr Poem)


I will risk a shrunken face

Just to get out of the place

Like the movie Beetlejuice

To vamoose to a new space.


(A Englyn Cyrch Poem)


This large number I have found

Now has me waiting around

Until the magical sound

Of my name fills the compound


(An Englyn Lleddfbroest Poem)


Proximity to the door

Will not reduce my time here

Almost more than I can bear

My number is close I’m sure


(An Englyn Proest Dalgron Poem)


It’s fine – don’t call my name yet

So I can get out of here

I am strangely thrilled to get

Time to finish this chapter


(An Englyn Proest Gadwynog Poem)

September 23

Urban Gardeners


Swiss urban green thumbs

Go green for food, social, health

Reasons, wealth matters


(A sciku Poem)

A poetic synthesis of the conclusions of the research article

“Digging for the roots of urban gardening behaviours”

August 13

Surprise Snack


Our for a paddle finding wild fruit

Kayak hulls knock against rocky shoreline

When we see the shrubs we make a beeline

Summer adventure with a snack to boot

Everything tastes better fresh from the source

And these small sweet dark berries hit the spot

It’s difficult not to grab the whole lot

Have to remember they’re all the birds’ got

One for us three for them without remorse

St. George Lake offers scenery for days

And many small islands to circumvent

Didn’t even need insect repellent

On Maine’s water with fruit we are content

Until the next time we paddle and graze


(An American Sonnet)

September 21

Reactor Reaction


If I heard this siren on a time and day

Other than 2pm on the month’s first Monday

Would my flight or fight or curiosity kick in?

How will I move in a world approaching ruin?

Will I head away from troubled curved cooling towers

Sharing the car filled with furred, feathered, and handsome on a road trip for hours?

Do we hole up in the basement with the camp stove, well water and canned goods

Protected by cinder block walls, clay soils and doors of wood.

Or does the suction of the fridge door opening proceed the crack of a couple beer cans and the creak of the deck chairs

Flair and glare reflecting in aviators, life somewhere between psychedelic dream and nightmare.

To some this may seem devil-may-care

(Curiosity wins again)


(An Azby Poem)

September 2

Real or Reality


Blank screen

Without it on I notice

The screech owl cooing in the dark quiet morning woods

The flimsy barrier of the screen door no resistance to the sound

And as the slightest hint of indigo

Begins to change the morning sky

Before any touch of golden sun appears

The barred owl also makes herself known

Echoing through the damp and still dark forest

As the dark, silent screen of the television

Reflects back to me my position

on the couch with morning tea

I can hear the faint content purr of Tom Cat

And feel his soft fur against my thigh

A small warm spot on this mild

Late summer morning

Another day beginning

As the golden enters the sky

A gentle breeze briefly causes the heavy dew to rain down

To the driveway from large leaves nearly ready to fall

With the spark of morning sun begins a chorus

First one loud clear voice above the constant din of katydid treble

Announcing the day has begun

Dozens more follow until the entire house and yard is filled with beginning

No power button just powerful.


(An Idyll Poem)

Image from public domain