Lizz Murphy - Poems 345: Back in the bush

they rise like ghosts

or soft grey angels against

the charcoal dark

wings spread

agitate cooling air

beaks pierce night

a summer glut

winged insects smear

my windscreen 

 

Lizz Murphy - Poem 338: light flares ...

light flares yellow casts your wing in silver we both hover

Lizz Murphy - Poem 178: The Queen winters (a nod to Lisa Brockwell)

A nod to Lisa Brockwell and her #25 Winter

Lizz Murphy — Post 117: Caterpillar (drawing)

This little fella helped me write my last small poem #116 Apple Core (after Red Cone)

You can see the photo of Cerura Vinula at Babamail's 'Amazing Caterpillar Transformations'

Lizz Murphy — Poem 77: Directions

Lizz Murphy — Poem 53: a light-winged bee

a light-winged bee

drifts down to a white

blossom spray

a yellow leaf

spins settles on

a spray of green

the pale stain

a bloom on the back

of her gown

Lizz Murphy — Poem 44: you dance

(Nodding at Sarah St Vincent Welch and Efi Hazimonolis with thanks)

you dance  wings moving

 like islanders’ hands

your ochre belly

Lizz Murphy — Poem 32: Bees

Glenyse's pantry — thanx for the honey

BEES

i.

A bee stung me on the tongue I was in the pram at the front door my mother saw me just in time I think I had an iced bun but I don’t remember in fact I only know because she told me when I was older

ii.

Some bees live for only six or seven weeks a bee makes a twelfth of a teaspoon of honey in its lifetime She says she licks every last drop from the bottom of every jar Watch out for bees

iii.

She asks her beekeeper husband to get one to sting her on her aching joint she swears by it as a cure for arthritis The bee must be very well trained

iv.

A bee man wanted to put hives in the middle of our violet Paterson’s Curse We said no A heap of bee boxes appeared just on the other side of our boundary fence Our neighbour got free honey No one got stung

v.

Male bees die after mating If you are a boy bee stay a virgin

vi.

A worker bee may visit 2000 flowers a day Plant more flowers so they don’t have to commute

vii.

If you hear a loud humming from your beehives it is just the workers fanning the queen with their wings It’s summer what do you expect

vii.

She has taken up beekeeping Her pantry already full of preserves is also now lined with deep gold honey jars I brought one home today a gift that makes me hum

Sculpture - Lizz Murphy

sculpture

honey ant on the eye

my mascara run