Other poets laureate are Walter E. Butts, the current laureate, Patricia Fargnoli, Cynthia Huntington, Marie Harris, Eleanor Vinton, and Paul Scott Mowrer.
Here's poem by Paul Scott Mowrer that has New Hampshire written all over it.
The chipping sound that I always thought was made by a bird, turns out to have been made by a chipmunk. I only realized this a year or so ago! Talk about clueless! If you are unfamiliar with the sound a chipmunk makes, click here (courtesy Partners in Rhyme).
We think we own this place. They think
Our yard, our walls are tunneled through
Though we are merely something to put up
Our birds they daily deign to dine and
Our blossom-beds they tear to disarray.
They fear no nuthatch, woodpecker or jay.
Assuming bird-feeders for them were meant,
They pack their cheeks with bounty,
Then creep through grass and pop down
out of sight, But then pop up again, eyes blinking bright.
They climb our shrubs, invade our cellar
Explore each plant. They sit and scratch
Along our old stone walls they jump and run,
Or bask and rub their paws in noonday sun,
Our chase each other madly-chase is fun.
Even as I write, I hear the lone "tick-tock"
Of a lovelorn chipmunk, upright on some rock.
Head over to Wild Rose Reader for this week's Round-Up and say hello to Elaine!
Photo by Gord Bell.