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Backyard Aria (A Summer Fantasy)

Mr. Finch came to sing in the backyard this morning
dressed to the nines in a black and gold tux.
How handsome, how stylish, how debonair,
as he took center-stage in a mulberry tree.
With his black cap tipped forward in casual fashion,
he puffed out his chest like a small Pavarotti
and burst forth with a glorious song.
The notes spilled from his throat on ribbons of silver
rising and falling in the sweet morning air;
as pleasant an Aria as ever performed,
and the audience was drugged by its beauty.
The day lilies sleeping by the side of the steps,
rose and opened their mouths’ in awe,
and the butterflies waltzed
with blue and white asters
while the iris cried tears of pure joy.
The pansies lifted their bright colored skirts
and pirouetted around the peonies,
and the garden gnome set down his basket of seeds
to turn cartwheels before the begonias.
The bleeding hearts, dazzling
in the brilliant sunlight,
beat out a rhythmic response,
while the roses so sure of their own distinct beauty
bowed in deference to the finch masterpiece.
And the people, the invisible people,
Sipping cocktails in patio chairs,
raised their glasses high in salute to the finch,
while whistling and cheering “bravo!”
An invisible man turned his attention to me
stroking his invisible moustache,
and with a glint in his eye said,
“another round please,
and one for the bird too, if you would.”

10 Apr 08

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Comments please.  even if it's to say this sucks and why. i thought this was a workshop site.
 — PaulS

This should be sent pronto to the Audobon Society for printing in their newsletter.  

My patio Finches are wearing bright scarlet collars, the better to attract the more drab females.  Well done, I can totally hear it and see it.
 — Isabelle5

Thanks Isabelle.  I wasn't sure about this one--alot of people don't like this much personification in poetry.  I wrote this last summer when I was strggling through a bout of writers block.  I saw the finch and the poem just took of from there.  I'm glad you enjoyed it.
 — PaulS

I like this poem though I had to read a few times to take it all in.  In the last two stanzas, I got the impression that you were in the company of ghosts.  I have a feeling that isn't your intention with this poem but it worked for me...

Quick question:  Did you mean (Summer Fantasy) in the subtitle?

~Nicely done~
 — JKWeb

That's mo' like it...
 — JKWeb

Thanks JK for catching that typo, it makes a difference how this is read without knowing it is a fantasy.
 — PaulS

I re-visited this one and it's my favorite by you that I've read so far...
very creative
 — JKWeb

Thanks JK, much appreciated :)
 — PaulS

I love this. Love, love, love. 12 - 25 is absolutely outstanding imagery. I enjoy the idea very much of the pansies lifting their skirts! It reminds me of the Alice in Wonderland scene where one of the flowers goes to lift Alices skirt and tells her that her skirt is indeed very odd for petals! The invisible people watching this little finch is such a lovely touch. The only things I would possibly tweak... maybe.. is the use of sweet morning air, as in poetry, the morning air always tends to be sweet... a new adjective possibly? Also, I don't find there being very much need to state the invisible mans moustache is also invisible. I found it slightly redundant! Other than that I'm completely smitten by this whole thing. I hope the finch gave you and the crowd an encore. Well done.

 — shadowskiss

Thanks for the positive comment shadowkiss :)
 — PaulS

great poem, Paul. good words. this is highly imaginative, colorful, a perpetual tapestry upon discovery. you always give us a lot to think about ... and, of course, you did that with this poem.
 — listen

Thanks, listen.  Your comments are always appreciated
 — PaulS

Excellent poem.
 — XillusXavier

Thanks, XillusXavier, for reading and for the comment.  But I would like to know why you think this is an excellent poem.
 — PaulS