Monday, April 26, 2010


Rub it between your fingers
and smell it. You'll know
if it is rosemary. It smells great
when picked on the spot.
The green-needled leaves
taste superb when they're firm,
slightly rubbed, crushed,
added to vegetable soups
or in a rice skillet dish.

I am blessed to have
a Rosemary bush.
It is a blessed herb,
symbol of remembrance,
helps stimulate memory,
can ease a tired mind.
It is a natural disinfectant,
preserver of beauty products,
preserver of life.

The name Rosemary reminds
me of someone I know.
She is gentle as rose petals,
paints colorful roses, and is like
a sweet, blessed Mary.

Bird Friends

Doves wait, watchful on their high wire
that stretches across the back yard,
from Mexican Elder to China Berry Tree.
Their heads follow me, birdseed
bag in hand, walking toward rocks
against chain-linked fence.
Seeds smell like vitamins and minerals
and a mild scent of orange peel as I pour
them into a blue Tupperware bowl.

The bigger birds are growing bellies.
Do the smaller birds get enough to eat?
White-winged Doves dominate, flap
their wings, kick up dirt, eat their share,
shove little birds to the side, make them fly
away. But the little ones return, flock
to the bowl, frolic, hop, skip, jump,
flutter, from spot to spot.
A happy House Sparrow bounces
like a gorgeous rubber ball, looks
from side to side, picks up a long strand
of grass. The proud sparrow flies away.
I believe my birds do get enough to eat.