MY BACK YARD
The things I see in my backyard
Are gifts to me of high regard.
The mockingbird darts in so swift,
Makes sure it's heard, then jets adrift.
The lizards run along the wall.
A single one will never fall.
The toads wake up on every night
Then squat and sup each bug in sight.
Cicadas squeal like piercing bells,
And then they fill the yard with shells.
The corner where the widow nests
Contains a snare for dinner guests.
Be careful might you choose to kneel.
The ants will bite when near their hill.
A wasp once towed a spider back
To its abode to be a snack.
The mantis preys, it does not cease,
And thus allays the pests' increase.
The okra flow'r for bumblebees
Alone holds power that can appease.
The mulb'ry trees each spring enthrone
Varieties of birds unknown.
A dining room that hangs on trees:
Each orange bloom's for honeybees.
The blackbird snares with regal class
The bugs where there's Bermuda grass.
The days of glum one-twelve degrees
Don't phase the plum and orange trees.
Despite intense and scorching heat
The fig presents a juicy treat.
The summer wind huge clouds obtains.
T'will then rescind them ere it rains.
A falling star I saw one night
Spew sparklers far, blue-green and bright.
Hot air balloons, red sunset skies,
Full harvest moons, frosts, butterflies,
These things I view and even more
Departing through my own back door.
(copyrighted 1997)