Sunday sonnet

Photo by William J Soirdione

I look ahead of me. What do I see?
A pair of long translucent bunny ears.
It hops a little closer next to me.
I hope to pacify its rightful fears.

For just this spring, we were so overrun
with bunnies eating almost to the ground
most all our favorite plants…

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Sunday sonnet

Photo by William J Spirdione

The summer sure did come on strong my way
with sun and growth, humidity and heat.
Monarda patch so full of bees today.
The fading flowers must taste still so sweet.

With so much nectar I must stop my quick
and mindless work deadheading those spent blooms.
They’re nowhere near past spent…

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PASS IT ON

A twittle

Twittle and photo by William J Spirdione

Don’t mooch it all friend.
This stash won’t end. Just use some self restraint.
You would think it should be common sense.
It ain’t.

‘Pass it on’, whatever the phrase means to you. A micropoem in nine to thirty words.
For more information about writing for the prompt and for more…

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A sonnet

Photo by William J Spirdione

I hear three knocks. I ask, “A knock again?”
and, “What’s that ruckus going on up there?”
I look and laugh for nothing is mundane
and something’s always going on somewhere.

An apple fell off of our neighbor’s tree
that reaches past the fence beyond the deck.
These three old hens did…

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Sunday sonnet

Photo by William J Spirdione

I wake a summer’s day to sweet soft sound
of birdsong and cool breezes. Tunes that fill
the air and drag me out of bed. I bound
outside before I’m half awake. The thrill

of summer’s sweet activities at hand.
The sun just hot enough against the skin.
A quenching rain fell…

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Sunday sonnet

Photo by William J Spirdione

The grass is dry, that’s irrefutable.
These lazy afternoons are getting warm.
This dry hot summer day’s still beautiful.
Those heat and sunshine lovers bloom to form.

The others wilt a little, wait for rain.
Lichen and moss retreat. The ferns advance.
Magenta clouds of bee balm float again
with nectar for the…

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A sci-fi sonnet

Photo by William J Spirdione

Tzog’s good eye, salvaged from that long extinct
defrosted mammal sample, stares straight out
from rusted metal box. It woke then blinked.
Hears, “ Paddles in their uprights! We’re on route!”

What’s left of Tzog then feels the pulse and shake
of thrusters bouncing hard against the thin
weak atmosphere of Asteroid…

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William J Spirdione

William J Spirdione

William J Spirdione is a poet who writes sonnets and more about nature and the humans within it.