Time To Fly

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Time To Fly

The sun watches all from high in the sky
caterpillar to butterfly, miracles so small
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

Everything smells wonderful and clean
flowers and grasses grow so tall
the sun watches all from high in the sky.

In the warmth, my mood is serene
outside the sunlight touches all
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

There is magic in the color green
and music plays in nature’s call
the sun watches all from high in the sky.

The spirit renews in life’s routines
slow and steady the protocol
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

So many mysteries remain unseen
constantly changing our big blue ball
the sun watches all from high in the sky
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This is my first Villanelle and I hope it’s written correctly. Written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. Shared with my friends at Poets United.

Nuns And Sunflowers

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Nuns And Sunflowers
(My tribute to Fellini.)

A long afternoon spent
in a field of ripe sunflowers
my faded picnic blanket
a magic carpet.

The ultraviolet rays
sing my body a warm lullaby
my hands stop worrying
at the worn threads of my mind
as goldenrod heads gently nod
in blissful agreement above me
nature doing Fellini proud
(or is it just me?)

As the day settles into the heat
the visions start to fade
but before the spell is broken
I see myself surrounded
by nun’s in old habits
collecting seeds and planting sunflowers
(I am not alone.)

My last thought of course
like a hummingbird’s sweet kiss
settles on you.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for my friends at Poets United seeking the extraordinary from the ordinary and my tribute to Fellini. Also shared for open link at dVerse~Poets Pub. Artwork animated by me.

Spare The Air

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Spare The Air

It’s lunch hour in San Francisco on a foggy day. The sun tries to shed some light on the subject burning through the layers of car exhaust and jet streams from the nearby airport. The rush hour is in full force as drivers slowly move in lines like ants on the various freeways trying to free themselves of their cars. The local news station warns residents that it’s a Spare The Air Day.

Seated on a park bench near the bay munching on a sandwich the view is amazing. The yellow, orange and crimson streaks of color in the sky are beautiful. The sun is weaving in and out of the cloud layer making the afternoon light look magical. Without some pollution, the colors would never be quite like that. I am reminded of how a little smog can still be admired and enjoyed.

noon sun shimmers
a bayside Kodachrome moment
spare the air lunch hour

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photography by +Woojin Yu follow his work on Google+.

A haibun written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. In California, a Spare The Air Day is when the air is still and polluted to the point that making fires in fireplaces, burning garbage and other things that could add to the problem are prohibited until further notice. This is because we have very strict pollution laws. Although this picture looks like total pollution it’s mostly fog which we have a lot here. Despite my words, California has some of the best air in the US because most of our pollution goes down to the central valley.

My Bicycle

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My Bicycle

Everywhere I go
it goes too
it keeps me healthy
I’m never blue.

Two rubber wheels
they take me far
there’s no pollution
unlike a car.

It feels like flying
my spirit’s free
wind in my hair
the birds chase me.

It’s good for most everyone
young or gray
practice makes perfect
today’s the day!

My bicycle
can’t be outdone
it keeps me young
while having fun.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I took this selfie in a mirror window I pass by during my rides on the Bay Trail in the San Mateo, CA area. I bike 20-30 miles every other day taking photographs of nature it keeps me happy, healthy and young. If you’re interested in biking, my photos of the Bay Trail or health tips check out my website Bike With Bekkie.

Written with pleasure for my friends at Poets United. Thank you, Susan! Also linking to my friends at Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

Nothing Personal

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Nothing Personal

I amble down
a road less traveled
a path is discerned
almost telepathically
I inch my way along
somewhat cautiously.

Mossy growth glistening
marching through the woods
mounting an invasion
against the trees.

The damp smell of death
permeating my senses
life mirrors nature
nature’s way is survival
nothing personal.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

A poem from my past posted for Earth Day. Also a nod to Robert Frost. Linked in the nick of time with dVerse~Poets Pub.

April Crocus

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April Crocus

When it seems like old man winter
will never lose his icy grip
dainty goblet-shaped Crocus
push through the melting snow.

Yellow, white and purple flowers
putting on their Easter finest
a colorful revival and early arrival
that fills us with new hope
welcoming the coming spring.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Shared with Monday WRites for Holy Week and Poets United.

Silver Dollar Moon

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Silver Dollar Moon

Like a silver dollar
******************hanging low in the sky
the full moon tetters
*******************on the brink
balancing
*********on the waters edge
in moments
***********it will fall and sink.

 

One last thought
****************heavy it did weigh
if only to be a balloon
*********************gently floating away.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

A 44-word Quadrille written for dVerse~Poets Pub using the word balloon. Thank you to WHIMSYGIZMO who helped me space this poem. Big hug!