Not sure, not sure why
the world turns the way it does
clouds steam across the sky
birds sing and cows call.
I stand in the midst of it all
and
I’m not sure
not sure why.
~ Patrice
@ Patrice Clarkson – 2020
Posts Tagged ‘birds sing’
Not Sure, Not Sure Why
August 31, 2020
I Come To Be
August 2, 2018
In the morning I come to be
In my joyous place laughing, happy
All as it should be.
As a mourning dove gives it’s plaintive call
Cars pass knowing nothing of my life
Not at all.
Birds sing, squirrels jump from branch to branch
On the hunt for the perfect breakfast,
Dinner, lunch.
Flowers bloom, waving petals in a quiet breeze
While a fly buzzes, irritating for sure
But still a life that lives, that breathes.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2018
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I Live In A Magical Place
July 6, 2018
I live in a magical place. Birds sing and trees say grace. ~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2014
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Disaster Could Have Happened
July 12, 2016
Disaster could have happened
Tragedy could have fell
Heartache in the moment
So fast no one could tell
If the world was alright
Or descended into Hell.
Prayers were answered, lives spared
But the fear of danger will forever tear
At a heart beating rapidly
Frantic to get to safety
To get away, to be spared.
All is quiet now
Birds sing a happy song
And
Somewhere in the forest, a mother
Loves her fawn.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2016
Our rottie attacked a fawn about the same size as him in our backyard this morning. Fortunately, we got to them before any harm was done and the fawn was reunited with it’s mother.
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Sitting Here Thinking
July 23, 2015
Sitting here thinking
Thinking of things.
Not much happening
The morning is pleasant
As clouds drift across blue sky
And I hear birds sing.
Problems may be many
But this morning
I fear not a thing.
I’m just sitting here thinking
Thinking of things.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2015
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I Live In A Magical Place
July 4, 2014I live in a magical place. Birds sing and trees say grace. ~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2014
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Birds Singing
June 20, 2014
Birds singing in a far tree
Silent sun’s rays breaking thru hovering
Bee doesn’t know you or me.
Tree leans to the sun as squirrels
Scurry, gathering keys
Unlocking nothing for chipmunks scold
Cussing unknown foe hiding
Waiting for them to go.
Spring day starts lasting
Into summer sun
Join the crowd travel
With them til evening comes.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2014
