March the month of caprices - Poemes & Diaporama Website L'Arié...Joie

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March, the month of caprices
March Sweet Spring
To live now
Master Martin on a perched tree, held in his beak a fish caught on the sand pit,
Flèche adorned with blue, orange and metallic reflections, he patrolled on the river,
He spends a lot of time on a branch watching for the passage of his prey,
Sure of his stroke, he plunges in a dive and pulls out his hold to the mandibles, in joy.
In March after a ritualized court, the male offers a small present to the female,
But he will not let go of the fish except in the event of his mother's will to mate,
They will then dig a tunnel one meter in the loose soil of the steep bank,
In the cozy nest, six eggs will give birth to chicks quickly hairy.
In the fields, in the meadows, a flock of little flowers dance a farandole,
Announcing the beginning of Spring "primo vere" in Latin, the beloved primrose,
Balance her flowers in yellow umbell chick as an offering at the crazy season,
The childish legend claims that by eating its sweet corollas you could see fairies.
Ponds, ponds, bogs become in March the theater of a strange marine concert,
    To seduce their beautiful males form choirs on sweet spawning grounds,
Frogs sing between purring and snoring of off-road motorcycle,
Kind of kor..kor..kor .. monotonous for our ears, but the sex appeal of the redhead.
With its petals in the form of a helix, the periwinkle looks like a miniature windmill,
She forms carpets in undergrowth with her leaves in the form of green eyes almond, joliette,
A blue bears the name of this cute, favorite flower of Rousseau the illustrious poet,
Used once in magical rituals, hence its nickname violet of the sorcerers of nature.
With hair or feathers they think to find the soul mate to assure their descendants,
Season of loves obliges, the round bird has put on his wedding costume with elegance,
In the olive tones, enhanced with pretty golden stripes, the male verdict, able,
Crawling while flying, this feathered seducer draws circling hoops in the azure.
What does he do, what he has, what is he there
He has a funny head this fish there ...
Head large and flattened, mouth lippue, the sculpin is rather amazing
He waits on the bottom of the water a larva of insect, to open his mouth, patient.

Beautiful season rhymes with butterfly when already flutters the peacock of the day in apotheosis,
But it is the swallow that enchants with its straw-yellow wings, ribbed with black ink, charming,
Punctuated by two pink ocellets and azure lunules, he honors Lamartine saying,
'It resembles the desire that never arises and without being satisfied touches everything.'
There are others in heaven whose name rhymes with angels,
Pretty and colored, from pink to turquoise or yellow to blue green, tits,
In these times of nuptial parade open wide their wings and their velvety belly,
Showing their black tie on their lemony bust for the charcoal.
Last month we listened to the melody and flute of the whistling blackbird,
It is for him the time to build his cozy cocoon in the foliage of a laurel,
Its nest is a small bowl of twigs, herbs and moss varied,
Where the female will lay her eggs speckled with brown put two weeks to its warmth.
In the Alps and the Pyrenees it is among the first flowers to hatch unfolded,
Also called "bouquet de Notre Dame", the gentian displays its insolent beauty,
It enamels the meadows and lawns of its small bright stars,
Under the sun, its marvelous corollas shine with their dark gipsy blue.
The day after spring, a couple formed in the sky at night falling,
At sunset, Jupiter attempts an approach to his majesty the Moon,
The planet bearing the name of the fickle Roman god seems tiny, begging,
Stubborn he will remain in the wake of his beautiful silver, he will accompany him until the opportune dawn.
For those who do the truancy or take the key of the fields in conquistador,
The small paths crossing meadows or forests serve as refuges in the early morning,
On their talus abound multicolored plants, lychnis, cuckoo flower and gold buttons,
This enchanting trail allows the turn of a turn to cross deer, hare or rabbits.
In the forest he reminds us Ötzi, the man of the Neolithic found with his ignition fire,
The amadouvier, a fungal parasite encrusted on the trunks, ended the war of fire,
Thanks to the dried powder of this mushroom, the spark of the flashed flints ignites it,
Nowadays, passionate fishermen use tinder to dry their soulless flies.
It is the opening, the "flyers" will derive their bait with made passion,
It is by whipping to bring the silk out of the reel that they comb the waves,
After the V-shaped aerodynamic loops, they deposit the fly near the observed gobble,
The artist plays everything in finesse, to surprise the speckled trout, rainbow or fario
                                                                                                                               L’ ARIÉ…JOIE

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