Wood Thrush

Wood thrush sings his heart out
The first tune I hear at daybreak
A trill so hauntingly sweet
As it softly nudges me awake

It echoes through the forest
With notes so bright and clear
Each year I await his arrival
A sure sign that spring is here

Of all the melodies in my woods
His flute-like song I love the best
It is both beautiful and eerie
As he sings with unfaltering zest

By Ann Christine Tabaka

singing thrush in dark forest


Tabaka Author PhotoAnn Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves gardening, cooking, and the ocean. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for Stanzaic Stylings.

Photo of singing nightingale thrush in dark forest by Victor Tyakht

Weavings

Gossamer spider webs
Shimmering wisps of summer
Nature’s tatted silk lace
Capture the imagination
along with their prey
Dew drops cling as glistening spheres
Reflecting tiny prisms of light
in the brilliant sun
Vibrating softly
with each gentle breeze
So many dreams vanquished
Life and death coexist side by side
in the lethal beauty of the orb’s web

By Ann Christine Tabaka

spider web in blue flowers


Tabaka Author PhotoAnn Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves gardening, cooking, and the ocean. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for Stanzaic Stylings.

Photo of spider web by rumxde

My Everyday World

Diligently
I fill each feeder
every morning before work
I no sooner turn my back
and, just as diligently
those pesky squirrels
are doing acrobatics on the feeders

They hang upside down
swinging from their back paws
and dumping the seed to the ground
for their partners in crime
awaiting below
to enjoy the ill-gotten booty

They cannot be dissuaded
from the tempting morsels
of sunflower seeds
They are too clever for me

I put up barriers
and I pound on windows
but all they do is look
back at me as if saying
Nah-nah-nah Nah-nah
it is the same every day

By Ann Christine Tabaka

grey squirrel eating food for birds from the feeder


Tabaka Author PhotoAnn Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves gardening, cooking, and the ocean. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for Stanzaic Stylings.

Photo by Photo17

Joyous Dawn

Gray skies
That morph into blue
Sun reflecting
Off the morning dew

Sleepy eyes
Greet a new day
Nature awakening
In a colorful array

A golden glow
Explodes across all
The earth comes alive
To the bird’s call

Moments pass by
In the beat of a wing
A glorious dawn
And the joy it does bring

By Ann Christine Tabaka

bird singing from branch


Tabaka Author PhotoAnn Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves gardening, cooking, and the ocean. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for Stanzaic Stylings.

Photo of bird singing by Sander Meertins

Evening Sings a Soft Song

Wind playing in the willow trees,
rustling the leaves like sheer lace curtains.

Fiery orange glow of the sun sinks slowly,
swallowed up by the hungry horizon.

Last faint traces of the soft evening light,
sparkling off of the tall damp marsh grass.

Flocks of song birds on the wing,
silhouetted against a marbled purple sky.

Sound of a sleepy owl awakening
as he stretches and prepares for his night hunt

I sit serenely while taking it all in,
observing the grand symphony of nature playing,
as evening sings a soft song.

By Ann Christine Tabaka

tree in meadow front of setting sun


Tabaka Author PhotoAnn Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves gardening, cooking, and the ocean. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for Stanzaic Stylings.

Photo by Cherniyvg