Poem for Spring

Humber River, Looking north from Dundas Street bridge; BB Z10 photo by Steven Potter

Beneath the silent frozen floe,
Waiting for its time,
Under stumps and rocks and ice,
Sleeping in the vine,

Measuring days, the warmth and light,
Solar angles rise,
Sending home from parts unknown,
Pulsing wings across the skies,

This silent Spring drives clockwork things;
We’re captive in the round.
We sense the Earth’s rebirthing;
We hear the trickling sound.

We are the melting winter ice;
Through crystal cracks we make our start.
And fracture down through frozen ground,
To pool inside our Heart.

We follow close the hidden stream,
Carving worlds anew.
We fan the fire feeding dreams,
Of sun drenched hills in view.

Of flowers, fields and gentle breeze,
Creatures of every kind,
Spring grows and shares all we hold dear,
Miraculous Design.

Waffle in Hand

Waffles hot from the grill, Nikon D90 Photo by © SCPotter

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The Waffle Song

Oooh…I’m a little waffle, cookin’ in the grill,
Some happy little belly, I am gonna fill.
Load me up with syrup, butter and some cream.
Yes, I’m the yummiest breakfast you have ever seen.

Oooh…my brother’s just a corn flake, crunchy, cold and dry,
He floats around in milk and doesn’t even try,
To be the kind of breakfast for a King or Queen.
No, I’m the yummiest breakfast you have ever seen.

Oooh…my sister’s name is Oatmeal; she’s sticky, warm and sweet,
With cinnamon and raisins, she makes a lovely treat.
But movie stars with Oatmeal are never on the screen.
No, I’m the yummiest breakfast you have ever seen.

Oooh…my cousins in the egg box are served in many ways,
Boiled, fried and omelet style, some have them every day.
They eat them in the morning, on toast and in between,
But, I’m the yummiest breakfast you have ever seen.

Oooh… my other friends are fruits and nuts, delightfully combined,
With yogurt or some ice cream, I know you’d surely find,
They’re not the best for breakfast; you know just what that means,
Yes, I’m the yummiest breakfast you have ever seen.

Oooh, I have another brother, in fact he is my twin.
We’re made from common batter, I’m thick and he is thin,
He’s just a plain old pancake; he won’t be in your dreams,
No, I’m the yummiest breakfast you have ever seen.

Sooo…now you know the menu; what options will you choose?
At breakfast you’re the winner; with waffles you can’t lose.
Let’s get the griddle going for the taste that reigns supreme,
Yes, I’m the yummiest breakfast you have ever seen.

© Steven Potter, July 30, 2013 All rights reserved.

The first verse of The Waffle Song came to me last Saturday morning as I was taking a shower and thinking of what I’d like for breakfast. In fact, the first verse was finished before I got out of the shower! It’s really a great place for composition, poems and singing!

Over the next few days, the rest of the song slowly came together. And now, what began as a tweet poem, has taken on the stature of a camp-style, sing-a-long earworm! My wife and I can’t stop it from playing in our heads.

In honour of the songs arrival a week ago, we had waffles for breakfast this morning. And the waffle in hand photo was taken to complete the story.

I’m hoping that someone at TVO Kids will like it well enough to put it into a video. I can already visualize many of the characters in the song; think this could be a wonderfully funny story when visuals of the “breakfast family” are added.

A Doe in Hand

Brampton Ontario, July 10, 2013; BlackBerry Z10 Photo by © SCPotter

Innocence arrived today,
And licked my wrist as if to say,
She welcomed life by rescued hand,
The gentle caring Orkin man.

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Tweet poem for today.

When I posted yesterday’s “Bird in Hand” photo I had no idea of what I would be holding in my hand today! It’s the same hand, and the same camera angle, and another wild creature looking me right in the eye.

I was at work when our pest removal guy came by to show us his latest find: a doe just barely a week old and separated from her mother.

I don’t know all the details of how he came to be the new Mom, but I could sense by the way he cradled her that, if she was going to survive at all, her chances with him were as about as good as it gets.

Orkin is known as an exterminator of invasive insects and catcher of nuisance animals. The kindness of this Orkin employee (sorry I didn’t get his name) seems such a contrast.

I’ve got a few more lines for the poem in my head, so I may post again when they settle down.

…and today’s my birthday. What a wonderful gift.

A Bird in Hand

Gray Jay (Perisoreus canadensis) in Algonquin Park, July 2012; Nikon D90 © SCPotter

Algonquin trails so green and deep,
Forest alive, its treasures keep,
Me holding camera ready snare,
For Grey Jay’s happy thankful stare.
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Today’s Tweetpoem.
Grey Jays are omnivorous and store food for the coming winter in bark crevices, under tufts of lichen, or among conifer needles. They quickly learn humans = food, and will take on bold behaviours when tempted. Wikipedia indicates they “cache thousands of food items every day during the summer for use the following winter”.

This particular guy must be a veteran of the Park, given his four leg bands. Perhaps a birder could comment on what the colours mean?

I Spy Dragonfly

Twelve-spotted Skimmer in my front yard. Photo with Nikon D90 & 2 lens-mounted speedlights.

A Twelve-spotted Skimmer,
Settled in view.
Her gossamer wings,
Amazing see through.
Golden and glistening,
Spectacular light,
A gift to behold,
Such a beautiful sight.

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Tweet poem of the day.

This Beauty landed right in my front yard. I scrambled to get my camera & strobe lights set up, and luckily she (yes, it’s the female of the species) stayed for quite a while. She landed in our Euonymus at a height that was just perfectly aligned with our porch and made it very easy for a hand-held, walk-up “close encounter”.

For more on this amazing creature see: http://bit.ly/10Jz74P

Good News Radio

The corruption of the world,
Broadcast far and wide.
The receiver of the heart,
The source of truth inside.
Pick today the band,
And listen when you can.

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A poem I tweeted this morning in the “CamelBackStyle”; i.e. using line breaks as punctuation and no spaces between words.

This one turned out to be exactly 140 characters, including the title.

Formatting like this maximizes the content, but makes it un-readable to search algorithms. I’ve sometimes included hash-tags, but there again, you have to “waste” a space before and after to make them stand out. Such are the challenges to the TweetPoet.

This Autumn Day

Gingko biloba, in my own front yard.

Beneath the Gingko’s golden glow,
Reflecting lightly the year’s demise,
I found myself longing a deeper path,
The way, the want, the course to know.

Embracing all, the lifting sky,
Allowed aloft a lingering muse,
“When, if not now?” the clouds implore.
A moment’s Chance rolls by.

Break step the crushing mindless march!
Come about and lean renewed,
A tack held by the steady hand,
Of heart’s true love insured.

A clearing breeze this autumn day,
Restores where things belong,
Gives breath abroad eternal truth,
The tree, the sky, the heart are one.

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Notes:
I wrote this on Sept 30, 2010; just now getting all my misc bits of poetry moved to one place.

Gingko – A unique species of tree with no close living relatives (also known as the Maidenhair Tree). The tree is widely cultivated and has various uses as a food and traditional medicine. Its leaves turn a bright yellow in autumn. (See also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ginkgo_biloba )

Break step – A command given to marching soldiers prior to crossing a bridge. It causes them to immediately change from their uniform and synchronized pace, to one which is random. This prevents the introduction of potentially destructive resonances into the structure of the bridge.

Come about – An expression used by sailors which means: to change course abruptly and dramatically. It requires a fast turn, steering into the wind, adjusting to the new direction and changing the way the sails are set to match the new course. This is also associated with “taking a new tack”; i.e. a new direction.

Summer Solstice – Evening

Tilia americana

Evening fell the fragrant scent,
From Linden flowers and as we went,
The drifting clouds full moon delight,
Grateful Spirits this Solstice night.

First tweeted on June 21, 2013

Summer Solstice – Morning

A beam at dawn bisected space,
And through a window found my place,
Riding on the spinning sphere,
Half way round the solar year.

First tweeted on June 21, 2013