Don't You Have Something Else To Do?

Okay.
I'll pretend I am curious.
Why are you peering over your fence,
With binoculars?
It is obvious what you are doing.
And those neighbors have moved.

'You don't know everything.
I happen to be observing,
The activities of rare squirrels.
Grey in color and munching on pine nuts.
And...
I am not looking at 'that' house at all.
Okay?
Nosey.'

I see.
And...
Would they happen to be sitting,
Eating dinner...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Willow tree by the lake

Willow tree by the lake standing tall since the day one
Home for birds and squirrels, place of fun
Breeze will come and play with her branches
Whistle at them before they move on
Any time, at mid day, at night or at the crack of dawn
Humming bird feeder and bird house hanging all over the tree
They swing back and forth and hang free
All summer it is a fun house as the birds come and go
Rabbits will hop around on the ground below.
Ducks will sit idle or sleep under her shade
Squirrels will carry food up the trunk, not afraid
During winter when nature sleeps no life around
Willow tree will shelter the birds, the squirrels
and even the worms under it's ground.
Many yrs ago I planted the tree, saw it grow day by day
Sat under it, wrote poems, it made me happy and gay
I know one day my time will be up and I will be gone
But my willow tree will still be here, singing with the wind at each dawn.

poem by Syed Karim
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When does a song become a poem?

Music is loved through culture.
But when does music become literature.
When does Chipmunk meet shakespear?
When will Slipknot become William Blake?
Soulless music makes milllions.
Cultural Poetry makes squat.
But if soulless music is the big life then i'm not looking to live it.

By a 13 year old ask before copying this.

poem by Joe Mason
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I have always brought home stray animals - everything from squirrels to wild rabbits to foxes and turtles.

quote by Amy Weber
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No matter how high the squirrel jumps, it will eventually fall onto the ground.

Malay proverbs
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The Hungry Squirrel

It is the winter of 2001;
’Tis raining cats and dogs;
A hungry squirrel madly runs,
In frantic search of food!

It can’t control its hunger pangs;
The weather’s damp and cold;
There is no sign of any food;
How can it remain warm?

The guava-fruits have disappeared;
Papayas are unripe;
The Pea-fowls guard the Palmyras;
There are no wild berries.

The squirrel squeaks quite endlessly;
Its warmth is running out;
Perhaps, it thinks of grandpa-days,
Of juicy fruits and nuts.

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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Wild Wild Party In The Loquat Tree

Out in the back by the grape stake fence
Is a place where nature makes so much sense
All the creatures livin in harmony
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Fuzzies and furries run walk or fly
Havin a feast beneath a clear blue sky
Animals comin from miles around
To bounce the branch and shake the loquat down
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Peckin at em pickin at em hidin em away
Savin em up for a rainy day
No matter how big no matter how small
Theres more than enough theres plenty for all
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree

[...] Read more

song performed by Indigo Girls
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You can't be suspicious of a tree, or accuse a bird or a squirrel of subversion or challenge the ideology of a violet.

quote by Hal Borland
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Surroundings-22

Window Sill Visitors

Pet invitees birds hunt
Racing for a fist of grains
Poking in intruder-squirrels
Chasing them on quicker quest

poem by Indira Renganathan
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Squirrel

Here I am, I’m the squirrel!
I store nuts in a hole,
Before it gets too cold.
I scurry from tree to tree,
Collecting all the nuts that be.
I put them in holes near and far,
So that I forget where many are!
Look up at me and I’ll give you some cheek,
Then run up a branch without a creak.
Some probably think I am a nut,
Burying like I have no head, but;
God made me,
And that is just who I will be.
See me here, see me there,
I’m everywhere!
I’m the squirrel!

poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Spring!

Plants n’ insects await spring
Promised by a warming sun
Chipmunks chirp n’ robins sing
God looks on with admiration

May Day brings forth a fiery sun
All life reaches up in joy
The land is filled with animation
Spring restores what winter tried destroy

All creatures great n’ small now procreate
“Survival of the fittest” the only law
Spring rain falls, the Earth it doth refresh
Another cycle completes, without a flaw

Mother Earth has birthed another season
She questions not her role or God’s reasons

poem by Ray Lucero
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Never feel self-pity, the most destructive emotion there is. How awful to be caught up in the terrible squirrel cage of self.

quote by Millicent Fenwick
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I'm not squeamish at all. As a child I dragged a dead squirrel home on my skateboard and cut it open and tried to look at its brain.

quote by Jessica Biel
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Signs of Autumn

The signs of autumn are upon us. Wow!
The Sun is heading south and harvesting
Is ready for a host of crops by now.
In early fall the days are warm as spring.
The leaves are turning yellow, some are red
And few are brown as yet. The oaken tree
Is dropping fruit and squirrels running ahead
Of other squirrels to claim a guarantee
Impending drops are won. The scent of leaves
Is carried by Septembers gentle breeze
Throughout the day bestirring memories
Of seasons past: A time of youth, who seized
The autumn moments with a measured scheme:
To laugh and play; to sing; to love and dream.

poem by Albert Ahearn
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All us Youngs could throw. I used to kill squirrels with a stone when I was a kid, and my granddad once killed a turkey buzzard on the fly with a rock.

quote by Cy Young
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Silent Poem

backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunk
underbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblow

woodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpile
sawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweep

backdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilk
candlestick ragrug firedog brownbread

hilltop outcrop cowbell buttercup
whetstone thunderstorm pitchfork steeplebush

gristmill millstone cornmeal waterwheel
watercress buckwheat firefly jewelweed

gravestone groundpine windbreak bedrock
weathercock snowfall starlight cockcrow

poem by Robert Francis
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Taking out the Trash

Twice a week in break of dawn
While the stars are outstanding
I screw the plastic lids on tight
Moles and chipmunks might get in

Summer in my shirtsleeves smart
A chorus of derisive birds
Winter with my overcoat
Frost and mist, dismissive words

The plastic, glass and house discards
Out by six and standing proud
Proclaiming waste and affluence
Of which we do not speak aloud

Who has the skills to sort this stuff
The piles we evacuate
Who can recycle or degrade
The trash we have thrown out too late

[...] Read more

poem by Frank Bana
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The Old Man alone in his room

He doesn't like to talk
just sits quietly
never smiles or laughs.
Won't join in any of the games,
eats his meals in his room
leaves his tray outside the door.
Next to his bed is a black and white
photograph of a man in uniform.
In a drawer lie medals covered by socks,
bravery hidden away.
He can hear laughter outside his room
as he stares out of his window at a dark cold sky.
When the sun shines he likes to feed the birds,
a squirrel takes food from his outstretched hand.
One day his tray isn't outside the door,
outside a lone squirrel waits.

poem by Kevin Halls
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Fable

The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel;
And the former called the latter "Little Prig."
Bun replied,
"You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it's no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.
I'll not deny you make
A very pretty squirrel track;
Talents differ: all is well and wisely put;
If I cannot carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut."

poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Surroundings-29

These Days..

Only crows and squirrels are regular
For windowsill-grains, deft revelers
Peeping why the crow cries regular
As if humans are its co-revelers?

poem by Indira Renganathan
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