Birds of many colors
spread your wings to fly
upward to the treetops
on up into the sky.
Birds with sweetest voices
sing now across the way
begin a happy melody
in every heart today.

© Freeda Baker Nichols
redbirdMrs. RedbirdDowny WoodpeckerOld-world FinchBlack capped chickadeeTufted Titmouse - 2
bluebirddoveDSC_0308 (7)cropped-dsc_0187-21.jpgrobin-- cold morning - 1Eagle at Banner Mt.bluebird on rain gaugewoodpecker in flight

Even A Poet Can Wish

This Bluebird landed on the broken water gauge which is shaped like a Hummingbird. And tonight, this poet is at a loss for words for a poem to complement the picture. This Bluebird is one of my favorite birds this summer. His and Mrs. Bluebird’s first hatchlings have flown the nest. The parent birds are still nesting.  In time, their second little family will hatch and also leave the nest. I wish I could keep these adorable bluebirds here in my yard throughout the four seasons. I know that is not possible. But even a poet with no words can wish.bluebird on rain gauge

April in the Ozarks

When it’s April in the Ozarks
and the birds are on the wing,
when the showers falling gently
cause the meadowlark to sing.
The bird of blue fights the sparrow
and wins the honor to nest
inside the little house of wood
with its doorway facing west.
When it’s April in the Ozarks
and it’s time to welcome spring,
in a garden filled with flowers
there’s a bluebird who is king.

© 2015 Freeda Baker Nichols


My First Published Poem

Years ago, when my second-grader brought home a page of grade-school art, I displayed his masterpiece on the refrigerator door.  By looking at his creation done in crayon, I wrote a poem when I was enrolled in a creative writing class at the University of Central Arkansas. The poem was published in the university’s literary magazine, “The Vortex.”  My first published poem!  Double joy, since it was inspired by my small son’s class project.


The blue clouds drift slowly
in mid-air, with nowhere to go.
The bluebird flies purposefully
between the clouds, over the trees,
and westward.
The silk violet stands waiting . . .
a small hand reaches down.
Lips form a smile,
a voice says, “thank you.”
The vase holds violets, green stems,
and love.

© Freeda Baker Nichols
Violets at Banner


the bluebird flies purposefully

My first published poem was the spark that ignited my desire to continue writing and publishing poetry. This simple, short poem in free verse is one of my favorites. Do you have a favorite poem? If so, what form was used to create it? Is there a poem you remember from childhood that still rings in your memory?