Hopeful Dialogue

Crambo, Rambo, an inferior rhyme —
Societal stumbling “on a dime.”
Red-tail Hawk soaring on a warm updraft;
Meditation is a delicate craft.
A Mockingbird’s flying’s a whistling jaunt.
Sometimes landing’s an unbalanced taunt.
Tough Tabby walking the plank [porch] worn ramp;
Sure-footed sailor, an elegant “tramp.”
Talking is crambo if done all alone;
Nature, my wistful sing-a-long, seeds sown.

SPINNING…

When children spin the Dreidel like a top,
Does chance and spirit blend like a heartthrob?
A daft squirrel bounces a nut on a branch;
Instinctively prays for no avalanche.
My cat chasing a ball “creates” much joy.
How would he do, with a four-sided toy?
Turning her eggs over [talons] to glance —
Mother Bird playing Nature’s game of chance.
White seagulls cruise the parking lots for food;
Catching wind-swept crumbs hones an impish mood.

Fiddle Faddle

His crazy flying’s a gay toodle-oo;
The mockingbird is a book “way past due.”
A dog that is constantly wagging its tail,
Is a yea-sayer and that’s no folktale.
A white feather lies in my garden bed.
Was this handsel from a bird I once fed?
Fallal, a pretty necklace at the throat —
Male pigeon thrusting his chest, “wooing boast.”
The tough cat emerged from the willowwacks;
Calisthenics, then, a fitting climax