The Night of The Dragon
There were Dragonflies catching insects in mid-air.
A coppery red one with black spots on it's sides.
Another with multiple black spots on its wings.
My two eyes have gone backward in my head
from watching dragonflies, serenade in flight.
Swallows soar and dive about
into the cloud of dragonflies,
if I may say, enjoying ...
a virtual picnic in the sky.
A swallow flew by
and caught one on the wing -
After enjoying his feast,
flew back again.
Same pattern of flight,
not so lucky this time -
But, that's alright.
So many species, all in a cloud,
why did I think they should all be one kind.
How do they find one another in the crowd,
with all of them, on the wing.
Perhaps this is the time the dragonflies sing.
The Cicadas are quiet for just a moment.
Do they listen, in their stillness ?
Perhaps they hear the dragonflies song,
that our ears, do not receive.
The swallows circling above are lessening.
Yet one remains.
Either a big feaster or, inexperienced and naive.
The sun, she is setting,
heavenly light beams, she streams.
Last light of the night, for the dragonflies, it seems.
But they will continue their dance into dusk.
far into tomorrow and into the next.
They'll do this dance, again and again.
Sweet coupling, sweet life begins anew.
As the night draws to an end.
****
Twas the little people who took over this night.
The Cicada, the Dragonfly and Hummingbirds in flight.
Now over my head, the Cicadas fly in,
heavily responding to the call of their kin.
Like Heathrow Airport, without radar.
Their screeching could send me, early to bed.
So noisy is their meeting and greeting,
over my head, in the 'Maricet Tree'.
THE NIGHT OF THE FLYING DRAGON
Oh the night of the flying dragon
Oh the night of the song on wing
Oh the sport in the sky so growing
As the white light of night flows in.
All above the sky is teeming
Wings of flight serenade the evening
Oh the night of the flying dragon
Aeronautical dance of Love.
ⓒ Maricet
July 2010
Another with multiple black spots on its wings.
My two eyes have gone backward in my head
from watching dragonflies, serenade in flight.
Swallows soar and dive about
into the cloud of dragonflies,
if I may say, enjoying ...
a virtual picnic in the sky.
A swallow flew by
and caught one on the wing -
After enjoying his feast,
flew back again.
Same pattern of flight,
not so lucky this time -
But, that's alright.
So many species, all in a cloud,
why did I think they should all be one kind.
How do they find one another in the crowd,
with all of them, on the wing.
Perhaps this is the time the dragonflies sing.
The Cicadas are quiet for just a moment.
Do they listen, in their stillness ?
Perhaps they hear the dragonflies song,
that our ears, do not receive.
The swallows circling above are lessening.
Yet one remains.
Either a big feaster or, inexperienced and naive.
The sun, she is setting,
heavenly light beams, she streams.
Last light of the night, for the dragonflies, it seems.
But they will continue their dance into dusk.
far into tomorrow and into the next.
They'll do this dance, again and again.
Sweet coupling, sweet life begins anew.
As the night draws to an end.
****
Twas the little people who took over this night.
The Cicada, the Dragonfly and Hummingbirds in flight.
Now over my head, the Cicadas fly in,
heavily responding to the call of their kin.
Like Heathrow Airport, without radar.
Their screeching could send me, early to bed.
So noisy is their meeting and greeting,
over my head, in the 'Maricet Tree'.
THE NIGHT OF THE FLYING DRAGON
Oh the night of the flying dragon
Oh the night of the song on wing
Oh the sport in the sky so growing
As the white light of night flows in.
All above the sky is teeming
Wings of flight serenade the evening
Oh the night of the flying dragon
Aeronautical dance of Love.
ⓒ Maricet
July 2010
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