April Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

April

The day is, Saturday,
I remain in my bed,
Half-open are blades.

Enjoy life's pleasures,
Sing the birds in chorus,
One perch by the feeder!

Contents of the feeders,
Vary, are different,
In one mix of sunflower.

Focus on that bird's tail,
Is like a fan, and tainted,
In sunray, golden shades.

The naughty bird, vigilant,
Acts as if is a commander,
Soon, attack their brigades.

I lie down, keep silent,
Full of joy, and observe,
Blood wine, I am a vase.

With each cell must praise,
The patience, tolerance,
When endless like oceans.

'Look at them, look at them, '
Someone seems to whisper:
'Don't ever complain…'

For minutes and hours,
Watch, adoring nature,
The season's flowers.

Yes, it is Saturday,
Have no work for today.

I relax in my way,
With my thoughts, images.