wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.

Tag Archives: poem


by 39 Comments

Australian King Parrot

Just imagine what a thrill it would be to have one of these king parrots land on your back fence to ask for a snack. I would probably break a leg running for my camera. This photo was taken by my friend Leslie who lives in Australia. She assures me that she hasn’t broken a leg.

 

Maybe he’s getting ready for Christmas, wearing his best bright red and green finery.

He’s already looking for his presents in the form of a handout of seeds and any other fruit goodies that may come his way.

 

Eucalyptus, bolly gum.

These are foods that make me hum,

Berries make some tasty feeds,

Sometimes topped with hasty seeds.

 

Eating seeds of tuckeroo,

I’m a tough young buckaroo,

Nectar tasty as the seeds,

Yes, this tree fulfills my needs.

 

Berries of the lilly pilly, 

I could eat them ’til I’m silly,

Great bush tucker for a bird,

But there’s more, don’t be absurd.

 

Apples, pears, bananas, figs,

Mangos have me dancing jigs,

So much fruit is good for me,

I won’t starve here, don’t you see?

 

But if nature’s food is low, 

Always, there’s a place to go.

Folks don’t feed me out of duty,

They all love me for my beauty,

 

 

 

 

 


by 30 Comments

Before and After and After

Earlier this spring, I was bragging about how many blossoms were on our transparent apple tree.

Later, many of these blossoms turned into apples. If you’re not familiar with transparent apples, you might think it would be great to just take a big chomp of one of these apples and enjoy the juicy freshness. You would be disappointed. It would be juicy and fresh, but it would be mouth-puckering sour. The very ripe ones are okay for eating, but the best are the just barely ripe ones that are crying out to be turned into a pie.

Notice that the apples weigh a lot more than those pretty white fluffy flowers. We had to prop up the branches so they wouldn’t break under the weight of the apples and the tree is already leaning from the load.

I picked a bunch of the apples to lighten the load. In the house, I peeled and cut them and put them into a bowl with a mixture of brown sugar, cinnamon and a couple of tablespoons of flour.

Then the food processor made the job of making a pie crust easy, and as they say the rest is history. Well, the pie was, anyway. I was lucky to get this photo before it all disappeared.  Funny how apple pie just seems to evaporate whenever there’s a cup of tea or coffee around.

Apple blossoms, apples high,

Up on branches to the sky,

Pick them, peel them, apples all,

No sense waiting ’til they fall.

 

Long awaited, now they’re ripe,

Just be patient and don’t gripe,

Apple pieces in the pie,

Taste so lovely, my, oh, my!


by 30 Comments

Hurry up and Hide

On this rural road, I came upon a doe and two fawns. Yes, there is a second fawn in front of the one that is obvious. I had to count legs. Either there were two fawns, or one fawn had more than four legs.

Over her shoulder, the doe lowed to the fawns, “Hurry! This way!”

“Get into the thicket here while I distract them.”

And as I drove past very slowly I saw that there was already a well-worn deer crossing and path down into a property  thick with shrubs and trees.

Not much concerned when cars come by,

Their courage doesn’t fail,

The fawns melt through the thicket high,

And fade into the trail.


by 24 Comments

Laughing Pup

*Note  –  I apologize for using this same photo of Emma again, but I really love it (because I love her so much). Emma is 11 years old now and is still “the best.”  Also, I wanted to mention that I do have four fingers and a thumb. One finger is just tucked in.

 

There once was a puppy who laughed,

Whose owner was equally daft,

She told the pup jokes,

That she’d heard from some blokes,

Then both of them rocked fore and aft.


by 48 Comments

Iris

This is the last of my alternating flower and bird photo poems. I suppose I could call them phoems. Thank you to those who hung in there until the end. I’ll spare you now and space out my posts a little more.

I love the heat, yet here I am,

With lolling tongue stuck out,

But please don’t take offense, madame,

I’m no ill-mannered lout.

 

 

I lure the bees in with my tongue,

They pollinate my throat,

And even though I’m still so young,

My beauty is of note.