killing no birds with just a few words

We often find birds on the deck near our sliding windows

Occasionally they are alive and winded

Hyperventilating and desperately trying to recover

Before a predator snaps them up

I stand guard over the winded ones until they fly away

Sadly we find most of them already expired

I looked up ways to prevent these unintended bird collisions

The first suggestion was to put blue tape on the windows

Start with tape from corner to corner making a big X

Then tape a vertical cross to make a big star symbol

The sort of thing people do in pending hurricanes

As if the howling wind is somehow repelled by blue markings

I am not sure if it works for either case but I will not be trying it

The next suggestion was to cover the glass with soapy water

The theory being that all those bubbles will make the surface more visible to birds

I this case you will get the added bonus of cleaning your windows

Sort of like killing two birds with one stone

Or should that be killing no birds with two bubbles

I will not be trying that either because soap bubbles soon slide off glass

It would be much better to capture a few birds

Form a class and teach them all to read

Once they are all good readers

Send them to teacher training classes

Release them so they can teach all the other birds read

Then put up a small sign in the yard

Beware Of Flying Into The Sliding Glass Doors

No more dead birds on the deck

Add an accessory to your bird feeder

Miniature clip on books creating a bird reader

Bird literacy rates will soar

Killing no birds with just a few words

Stories matter

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

Times are changing

Keep on moving

Don’t stand still

Go with the flow

Times are changing

Adapt and absorb

Swerve and duck

Be totally flexible

Times are changing

Minesweeper running

Stepping carefully

Click bang boom

Times are changing

Limbs are missing

Months of rehab

Learn to walk again

Times are changing

Don’t give up

Keep on moving

Beautiful sunrise 

Times are changing  

Aquire new skills

Guitar lessons

Form a band

Times are changing

Writing hit songs

Performing and touring

Famous and wealthy

Times are changing

Friends lost contact

Surrounded by associates

Who spend your money

Times are changing

Retire from performing

Move to remote place

Stop answering calls

Times are changing

Become a writer

Smell the roses

Stories matter

“Cheeky Monkey on the Move” by our guest author JH Huzzah

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Cheeky Monkey on the move, life in boxes,
No time for prose, no time for foxes.
In this whirlwind of change and transition,
A moment of pause, a brief intermission.

The treasures packed away, memories stored,
In this new chapter, they’ll be explored.
But for now, the chaos and clutter surround,
As Cheeky Monkey’s world is unwound.

But fear not, dear friends, for this is not the end,
Just a temporary pause, around the bend.
Once settled and unboxed, the tales will resume,
Entertaining prose will light up the room.

So bid adieu for now, and wish them well,
As Cheeky Monkey’s story continues to swell.
With each new adventure and each passing day,
We’ll eagerly await their return our way.

Abi takes her morning walk

Photo by Du01b0u01a1ng Nhu00e2n on Pexels.com

Abi took her usual early morning walk

it was a warm summer day with low humidity

wild flowers were in bloom

birds were happily singing 

taking a short trail through the woods

a path she had taken many times before

pausing to look at the flowers and butterflies

something caught her eye in the distance

a black cat moving towards her

the cat came close and sat down 

she reached down an petted the animal

who responded with loud purring

whats your name kitty she asked

the cat circled between her legs

before starting to walk along the trail

looking back frequently to make sure she followed

Abi always took the left fork in the clearing

the cat went to the right and started crying

it seemed like the cat was leading her to something

the cat stopped crying when she followed along the right fork

the trail became narrower and was obviously hardly used

briars caught her exposed legs

this better be worth it Abi said to herself

hoping she would not regret this adventure

the terrain became denser and the trail disappeared

she was climbing over fallen trees covered in moss

after a while reaching a clearing

in the middle stood a small shelter made from logs

the cat ran straight inside the shelter

she hesitated but stepped inside the dark damp place

an elderly lady dressed in black was sitting in the corner

welcome Abi she said I have been waiting for you

Sunday mornings

Oh the joys of Sunday mornings

Sleeping in late

Sunday mornings

Leisurely brunch

Sunday mornings

No agenda

Sunday mornings

Time slows down

Sunday mornings

Recharge your soul battery 

Sunday mornings

Pick up that book

Sunday mornings

Maybe a gentle stroll

Sunday mornings

Nothing too taxing

Sunday mornings

To be savored

Sunday mornings

Like a good malt whisky

Sunday mornings

Sipped not gulped

Sunday mornings

Not all thoughts escape me

Photo by Luana Freitas on Pexels.com

I start my day at the computer

opening my writing from yesterday 

I delete everything

I advance the date to today

the screen is now blank

Its a signal to clear my mind completely

I wait patiently for a passing thought

I let the first few thoughts go by unmolested

I can see them clearly but choose to ignore them

like strangers walking down the other side of the street

the traffic between us is heavy and noisy

then suddenly an interesting thought appears

moving quickly along the other side

I must wait for a gap in the traffic

I eventually cross over and chase after him

he ignores my pleas to slow down 

escaping my grasp before he disappears forever

this side of the street is empty now

the other side is crowded with attractive thoughts

I must return to the other side

I see a small gap and take a huge risk

running fast between speeding vehicles

I reach the other side out of breath

I confront a thought who stares at me in disbelief

what the hell do you want with me he demands

I need you for a poem I explain

hell no he says as he dashes into the busy street

brakes squeal and cars swerve to avoid him

he jumps back in front of me in a cold sweat

we make eye contact for a brief moment before he whispers to me

better to live forever in your poem than die escaping it