A sonnet
Each leaf and needle reaching and what for?
The sun, the sun, it’s always to the sun.
So many souls still reaching as they soar
To get a little closer when they’re done.
Each flower reaching higher wider still
These brightly colored flowers will entice.
Each ripple reads and leaf wave weaves until
The sun's rays fall and blankets nature’s vice.
A fish jumps through the ponds thin surface shine
While paper wasp’s cathedral’s being built.
Two squirrels climb to the top of this pine,
We’re always reaching, reaching without guilt.
Sun hears it rise, this floating upward cry,
Shine down…
A sonnet
The clouds came in on this late afternoon
With darkened sky and thunder rolling in.
There’s no rain but it smells like it will soon,
It’s almost here, not sure exactly when.
And while I wait the weight of clouds bears down,
The wind lifts like the pull upon a kite.
Don’t want to see umbrella fly around,
Hear breaking glass, from windows overnight.
Put stuff away, before storm overtook
And move to go inside before things fly.
Before I leave I turn and take a look
At Nature’s power looming in the sky.
The thunder cracked and lightning dimly…
Sunday sonnet
Still air and water greets us as we go
Down path beside this shallow marshy pond.
We stop to see the roots and muck below
White clouds reflecting down from far beyond.
And through this sludge some green did quickly rise
To break the surface of this wetland’s skin
With arrows green thrown up and to the skies
The lily pads lay flat not out nor in.
This pine is always watching far above
And frogs are playing in the warm wet mud
Our heart doth reappear now filled with love
Of nature all around our senses flood.
We turn…
William J Spirdione
William J Spirdione is a poet who writes sonnets and more about nature and the humans within it.
