Birds have returned
Little ones that come and go
Just as last year’s leaves blow.
Little ones with long legs
Wandering through puddles
Picking at worms I can only guess.
Birds swimming as schools of fish would
Landing amidst unmarked field
Seeds from last year’s crop to eat.
Big black crows and ravens
Messengers flying hither and tither
Eggs to find from last year’s abandoned nest.
I am not a ghost
I am a sentinel
Standing tall, proud
Weathered as I squint
Strong as I brave
Even the strongest gales
That pass before my flock.
My vision is far beyond
As stars, far above
Twinkle in clear moonlight
And I, weathered sentinel
Humbly remind mine ever quest.
Little Button
Little Strawberry
So squeely and happy
This joy you do bring
To my every day.
When you’re crawling away
So mischievously
Your panting excitement
All dirty of knees.
And when our sweet day
Starts waning away
Noises of such softness
I wish I could keep
Remind me gentle
Asleep there you lay.