wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.

Tag Archives: poem


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Darth Vader of the Sea

Underwater placemats? Next time you have a fish dinner, wouldn’t it be interesting to use placemats with an underwater theme? The fish in the placemats could remind the fish on your plate of the many dangers in the sea.

Darth Vader of the Sea.

“I tell my friends those hooks can pierce,”

Says Dark Invader of the Sea.

“It’s only ‘cuz I look so fierce,

They simply cannot capture me.”

 

My friends stay close and mill around,

They feel much safer swimming near,

I wave my fins without a sound,

And, grinning, tell them not to fear.

 

 


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Spring Snow

There’s no denying snow looks fine,

It makes the scenery divine,

 But what effect on bird and beast?

I’m sure they like the snow the least.

 

They migrate down the mountainside

To lower levels and abide,

They beg the sun to melt the cold,

Because they’re tired of being bold.

 

In summertime the hillsides warm

And sunny bees will hum and swarm,

The berries waft about their taste,

So very few will go to waste.

 

The easy life of leisure times

Is special to the warmer climes,

And when the frosts of winter leave,

The living hill enjoys reprieve.


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Like it or not

Tired of this winter! Do you feel it too?

No time for resting with nothing to do.

Searching for food to keep warm every day,

When will the sun come out so we can play?

 

No leaves are out yet,  no blossoms appear,

I liken the weather to winter, I fear,

It looks like these lichens are tired of it, too,

I’m simply not likin’ it, how about you?


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Vanity and Innocence

Eight proud blossoms, heads held high,

Eager to embrace the sky,

Hoping to be seen. 

 

Five young weaklings bending down,

Study moss upon the ground,

Think, “What can it mean?”

 

Pride will wilt with warming sun,

Blooming faces will be done,

Turning paper thin.

 

Innocents will rest in moss,

Stunned to realize their loss,

How short life has been.


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Ratty Graffiti

Good morning world, it’s time to wake,

And see what’s been donated,

I don’t expect to get a cake,

But scraps are ‘preciated.

 

Oh goodness me! A note I see,

It says, “Go check the middle.”

But ratty got there before me,

I know, I smell his piddle.

 

And also I can tell his script,

His writing is atrocious,

His spelling’s bad, his letters flipped,

I know ‘cuz I’m  precocious.

 

But oh-h-h-h how awful are his words,

They’re crude and so disgusting.

And what of all the little birds,

Who surely will discuss them?

 

That dirty rat messed up my den,

And now I’ll have to paint it,

I hope he won’t do that again,

It’s really mean, now ain’t it?

 

No need to have a heart attack,

I’ll get a drink of water.

I’ll hang on with my toes in back,

I hope they hold, they oughter.

 

That’s better, and within my means,

This cone is good, don’t doubt it,

Or like in gangster movie scenes,

I’ll just fuggedaboudid.


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Bugs for Lunch

Please watch this clip and see the ways,

I work so hard to try,

To feed myself in hungry days,

To make sure I don’t die.

 

The maple bark was way too clean,

It came apart with ease,

But nought was there for me to glean,

No breakfast bite to please.

 

I flitted to a nearby fir,

You see the different bark,

Its bumpy, roughness won’t deter,

My beak will find the mark.

Oh dear! I must take much more care,

To eat bugs ere they fly,

Right in my armpit, he did dare

To bite me. “Now you’ll die!”

Elusive little bug, you are, 

But mind my bendy neck,

I’ll find you, and you won’t get far,

I’ll eat you with one peck.


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The Eagle-eyed Weatherman

My eagle eye inspects the sky

To ferret out the chill,

And now I’m left to wonder why

The snow came down at will.

 

I know it’s colder in the heights,

And all the air was wet,

So pondering that, I knew by rights,

That snow was what we’d get.

I’ve fluffed my feathers up a tad

To keep the warmth inside,

I’ll check the depth of snow we’ve had,

And take a chilly glide.

I hope you’re hibernating, all

You creatures of the hills,

You must have known this snow could fall,

It’s testing all our wills.

 

But worry not, the rain will pour,

And wash the ice away,

Then soothing days will evermore,

Bring sunshine every day.

 


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Then and Now

Ski hill lit up in a magical spell,

Dreamy night setting that suits skiers well,

Silence is broken so gently and slow

By boards that grip sideways and crunch on the snow.

 

Icy cold particles stinging the cheek,

As windburn sets in, it is not for the meek,

Face feeling fresher against the wind’s bite,

Small price to pay to descend in the night.

 

Carving a path through the crisp mountain trail,

Chilling and thrilling, a joy without fail,

Swooping and sweeping around in the glow,

Joyfully living and breathing in snow.

 

That was then. This is now.

Cool breeze arrives on the ski hill next morn,

Rounding out edges to make them look worn,

Moisture seeps into each cranny and nook,

Skiers raise eyebrows with questioning look.

 

Where are the lights and the softly lit snow?

Who let this fog in, and why won’t it go?

Damp and encroaching, the low cloud just sits,

Making me thankful I’m wearing my mitts.

 

One thing is good about groping through mist,

Stunts can be tried that I just can’t resist,

No one can watch me or see as I fall

Ass over tea kettle once and for all.

Oops! Should have specified this poem as rated “R.”

(Sigh!) But “Bum over tea kettle” just doesn’t do it.

It would be too much like hearing a macho man say “whoops-a-daisy.”

 


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Now and Then

Against all odds, the cluster of daffodils that pops up near the fir trees every year, has decided to make a dash for the light of day.

For each of the flowers, the bigger photo is now, and the smaller photos at the side are what they will look like later this spring.

It’s our job to welcome spring,

We’re the first to do our thing,

What a let down it would be,

If there were no daffs to see.

 

 

 

 

Irises popping up.

Iris and her girlie gaggle,

Push the dirt, don’t want to straggle,

Iris girls put on a show,

Can-can dancers in a row.

 

 

Oriental poppies beginning to grow already.

 

Oriental poppy leaves

Grow in spurts, the ground upheaves,

Happy that they’re fenced right in

See the misery of their kin.

 

 

 

 

Below are the not-so-lucky ones.

Poppy Sisters, maimed we see,

Just outside the fence so free,

Bunnies come along at night,

Eat them up, bite after bite.


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Harry and Harriet

Harry and Harriet are hairy woodpeckers who live in the trees near our house. Sometimes they come closer for a visit to check out the bird feeders, but what they really like to eat is anything that is small and moves, usually under the bark of trees,  rotten or otherwise.

They’re not that fussy. Fruit, berries, and nuts make them happy too. They’re generally not seedeaters, but I was wondering if Harry was interested in that sunflower seed he has wedged in between the boards just by his right foot.

Harriet has one by her foot too, but it’s hard to say if she put the seed there or if a nuthatch was working on it and Harriet came over to check it out.

I sang a song for Harriet,

I like to call by trilling,

So far, she hasn’t noticed yet,

I’d hoped she’d find it thrilling.

 

I said, “Let’s check the feeders out,

We might just find a morsel.”

She gave me an indignant shout,

“I have to watch my torso.”