We’re seeking more poems with the theme “Fireflies/Insects” for July and “Sounds Fishy” for August. Send yours to Maryann Riker, maryann_riker@hotmail.com. All poems must be original and created for display here.
“A Grain of Sand”
©Mark Freeh
To see the entire universe in a grain of sand
And all of Humanity in the lines of your hand
A glimpse of Unity seen everyday
A miracle noticed in the blink of an eye
The rising sun, a stalking dear
Honking geese flying near
To capture a firefly, just to see her fly
With an open hand, held up to the sky
Feelings of awe as time stands still
A stunning view from the top of the hill
A purr of a kitten, the bark of your dog
Warm sun rays through the morning fog
Two families of four, one rich, one poor
They smile the same as Dad holds the door
Rain dropping into the ocean
Ancient fossils crash onto shore
In the breath of the moment, in the midst of the storm
Life longs for itself, yearns to be born
To see the entire universe in a grain of sand
And all of Humanity in the lines of your hand
“Tiny Lanterns”
©Jo A. Allen
It’s after midnight and the long and narrow path we walk
Is littered with pebbles and leaves and total darkness
Only the sound of my faithful dog’s rhythmic breath
Keeps me moving towards whatever waits in the shadows
Stars are covered by a heavy nimbus blanket
Humid air rises from the cooling of a hot midsummer’s day
In the distance rustling leaves startle our senses to pause
Only to spot an eight-buck deer enjoying a predawn snack
I smile as we cautiously move on to a waiting meadow
Where we are delighted by the sight of tiny lanterns
Flickering and floating near and far and everywhere
Each glow a whisper an echo of the celestial realms
My dear old pup leaps and yelps to see her long lost friends
Does she sense the vibration of these fireflies in flight?
I stand in wonder lost in the memories of years gone by
Grateful for for these moments, hopeful for the future
Will they return again?
“Firefly”
Cleveland Wall
Firefly fairy field,
fine fettle farm.
Float, flicker, flash.
Fickle fellow! Fie,
Firefly!
Flit, flutter, flee,
fairly flummoxed.
Follow far fond flame,
fatal flirt!
Final fall, fire fails.
Find fame.
Sheila Rogan
Moonlight starlight cricket songs
Romance in the air fireflies sparkling.
Magical Aerial, Tinker Bell, and Sprites.
When I was little I found them so beautiful and intriguing.
Yayoi Kusama artist intrigued by those tiny lights Shakespeare and Jay M Berry too.
“Lightning Bugs”
Danielle Notaro
I found one on the floor one day
and another a few days later defying
gravity on the upper reaches of the door
jamb. Nothing was lit up.
But both were in the bathroom,
days apart..One day I found one
in my hair..The kind of insects
beyond reproach. I carried each one
outside in a tissue. I didn’t collect them
in a bottle to watch them glow.
Or when a child, detach the golden jewel
and wear it on my ring finger with glee.
I gave them back their freedom.
Returned them to the air, the fairies
sprites,gnomes and invisible beings
of the night hoping they would catch
an updraft,spread their mundane colored
wings, those racing stripes,their elytra,
and share their magic with the darkness,
the sky,unbottled and in tact.
“Blink”
Darrell Parry
At
all the events
and
community gatherings
I
see them:
The
social butterflies
flitting
from person to person
landing
on hands or shoulders,
sometimes
even cheeks or noses.
That
is not me.
I
am more of a social firefly.
If
you work hard enough
and
somehow manage to catch me
perhaps
I will delight you
by
shining briefly
before
I raise my wings
and
go dark again,
disappearing
into the night.
My
radiance lingers
only
for those willing
to
take up the chase.
A light of time
In a flicker of a moment
In a beautiful winged
And moving creature
“lord of the fly”
Terry Hahn
i remember
an island memory–
a child chasing and capturing
the firework sight
of blinking fireflies
on luminescent summer nights.
then guiltless without remorse
like a primitive savoring
his preyed corpse–
tore open and spread
the inner yellow pigment
upon his belly and head.
a visual feast and beast
in the ruling dark
and darker instinct of night
in war paint of light–
to savagely show
the firefly’s glow!
Anne Achako
“THE QUIET LIGHT”
The moon ascends on silver threads,
The light in the sky,
It shines on sleeping heads,
And tacks in the stars nearby.
She drapes the world in ghostly glow,
With secrets soft and deep.
The tides obey her ebb and flow,
As oceans learn to sleep.
No flame, no fire, no boastful sun—
Just silence, pale and proud.
She listens when the world is done,
And dreams beneath a cloud.
Folks call her name,
Yet still she floats unknown,
A mirror of our hearts, the same,
Yet endlessly alone.
So raise your eyes when nights are long,
And let her light begin.
The moon knows every lost soul’s song,
And hums it from within.
Fireflies
tap dance
on the
top
of my
mauve-blush
blooms.
Sandra Jane Zajacek
Lighting Bug flick Fire Flies
Attraction to Distraction
Little fire flies lights flashing
Sit staring into the Twilight
Anticipating
Looking for the flicker
Eyes open
My Brain wants
Desires
in sight
Little lights flashing
Seeing META Lighting
Bugs
flickers for attraction
Flying for
hours in distraction
Sit anticipating clicks
In the guise of
Insight
Eyes glaze open
it’s outside
out the screen
door
See In the twilight
It’s
In sight
The little lights flashing
Fire flies flick lighting bugs
Distraction to Attraction
Let Your Mind Rest in the Attraction of the Earth’s Lovely
Fire flies
Distraction
Robin C
A time when fireflies were called lightning bugs—and—the light from the moon meant hopes and dreams……
Scooping closed my hands—- and awaiting the sight—of the blink as I peek through my fingers…
They say fire flies are not bug or flies—-yet their name flies out of mouthes of those who know nothing that applies.
Is it then fair to say—-I am like a firefly— not quite what people think of me—-Yet my name buzzes in places -that are no longer meant for me.
They say fireflies love warm, humid weather
Is it then fair to say— I am like a firefly- because the heat that fuels my soul—-continues to weather any storm.
A time when fireflies were called-lightning bugs—and—the light from the moon meant hopes and dreams…… And now that I’m awake I can see. The blink was always right here inside of me.
Fireflies
Jei,Jei
“We used to count the fireflies”
John M. Furphy
We used to count the fireflies
ten twenty thirty four
We held our jars, ones with metal lids
With can opener holes in them
So the fireflies could breath.
The sky was on fire with fireflies
It seemed that way to us
Kids of five six seven
Standing in the empty lot
Surrounded by the lights
Some kids would stand by the honeysuckle
There seemed to be more there
And you could suck on a blossom
While you waited to catch more.
You didn’t want to squish them
Getting firefly light on your fingers
You caught them by cupping your hands
You caught them by curling your fingers
You caught them and put them in your jar.
And when the jars were full
And when your mother called for you to come in
You unscrewed the lids and shook them out
The jars so bright now only jars again.
And waited for the next night
To go outside and count fireflies.
Frank May
Fireflies to watch
the best part of a gift for
you we have the most beautiful
flowers in your own mind
please reach back to me
anytime ahead of you and
likewise to see if we
could use a different color
doesn’t really appreciate
the invite to discuss
the above text from the
other two are
in good shape
but they have enough
room for the most
important question of
what
This project is supported in part with funding from the Hotel Tax grant programs through Northampton County’s Department of Community & Economic Development, a Crayola Community Grant, and the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts, a state agency, through the Pennsylvania Partners in the Arts
