Reverie

Sitting under the tree,
I watch birds fall out of the sky.
Time sighs gently by,
A rippling breeze in man-high grass,
While amaranth-coloured blossoms
Glide down on me.
I’m folding a paper aeroplane
That will take me yonder
To where the day becomes vermilion.

I'm afraid the mention of birds falling out of the sky makes me think there must have been an outbreak of West Nile Fever. I'd also express reservations about your use of 'yonder', which jars a bit because it sounds either archaic or incongruously like dialect. It's not a word I hear used often except in westerns. Nevertheless, I quite enjoyed you reverie, Dieter.

Live long and prosper - H

Thank you, Hawkman, for reading and commenting. I wasn't so sure about "yonder "either, the only reason I used it was that I rather like how it sounded - something that will happen to someone whose native language is not English. As for the birds, I wasn't really thinking of a disease but more in terms of something unexplainable such as birds that don't know how to fly anymore, which would make the image of the paper aeroplane so alluring. Maybe I should add a line or two to make that perfectly clear? Something along these lines:

Reverie

Sitting under the tree,
I watch birds fall out of the sky,
Wondering idly when they have unlearned
How to fly.
Time sighs gently by,
A rippling breeze in man-high grass,
While amaranth-coloured blossoms
Glide down on me.
I’m folding a paper aeroplane
That will take me
To that place far away
Where the day becomes vermilion.

Again glad you liked parts of it; I'm feeling more and more "rusty" as I haven't got enough time to write, read or comment as of lately :-((

Have a wonderful weekend, dear friend!

Well, I'm not sure that such a modification would be particularly helpful. Given the title of the poem, I can't quite equate it with watching birds fall out of the sky. Each to his own, of course, but the subject leads this reader, at least, to suppose that watching birds fall out of the sky is intended to convey that you are watching them land in an original manner. Birds aren't generally in the habit of falling out of the sky, though, so it just comes over as an incongruous image. Had you said you were imagining birds falling out of the sky, that would be different.

Live and be well - H

I understand what you mean by 'rusty', I myself have not a quiet moment to write or read... but You shared your reverie efficiently, for I enjoyed its nostalgia... Best of all, Bar

thanks to both of you for commenting (commenting again, in Hawk's case). I do feel rusty, indeed, and will let this piece rest for a while before making another rewriting attempt.