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These Couplet Nature poems are examples of Couplet poems about Nature. These are the best examples of Couplet Nature poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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A beautiful crimson,red rose. A heartfelt written prose. Walking barefoot on a country road in the hills. Playing in the pouring rain gives me thrills. Wearing white lace dresses,and frilly hats on my head. A candle lit dinner,a romantic evening in bed. Being held in my lovers strong arms. As he fills my heart with all his charms. The white blankets of snow that sparkle and glisten. The sound of the lil' whippoorwhil I love to listen. A warm,summers breeze blowing in my hair. The heavenly scent of flowers in the air. Loving my family with everything in me. And enjoying all Gods precious gifts you see. The mournful sound of the distant train whistle so blue. And listening to the old rooster crow loud and true. Just all the simple things without the strife. These are truly the things that bring joy to my life.
Sunshine beams sparkles softly golden magic Breathtaking horizon of dreams spells casting Feelings, faces and memories within Shall follow the nature´s endless spin Creeping higher morning glory rising perfect splendor Smiling warm rays inside hot radiance glows Dizzy with pleasure, tears a falling star rain wet drop of heaven Total silence no vibration pearls on leaves dried Songbirds sing praise in a heavenly choir whistling tunes Enchanting dewdrops sparkling shivers, silver glistens Diamond shining clearly colors beauty awakening Rainbow riches polishing a heart to the highest luster Into a landscape of dreams and hope The green grass will grow for another tomorrow A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and Anne-Lise Andresen :) - 12.01.2015 - - Thank you my dear friend Liam - Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The misty foggy morn floated in a dream And lifted off the mirrored pond almost like a steam. Moisture laden flowers bowed upon their stems. Tiny gossamer carpets with sparkling rhinestone gems Waiting for a whisper breeze to carry them away, As subtle yellow glow welcomed in the day. Iridescent dragon flies swooped by and hovered there Above a water lilly's bloom opening in prayer, And as I watched the magic new day softly dawning I bowed in peace, thankful for this summer morning.
Springtime paints such a delightful scene Cute lambs gambol in the fields so green Warm winds whisper through the leafy trees Blossoms float down on a swirling breeze Daffodils daintily dance and shake their heads Bringing bright yellow sunshine to our flowerbeds 3rd February 2015
Wildflowers dance in the soft country breeze 'neath heavens cathedral of blue. Whilst emerald grass glistens on the hillside still wet with morning dew. The mournful song of the whippoorwill so sad as his song fills the morning air. As I walk along barefoot and pick wild daisies for my long auburn hair. I wade the cool crystal waters of the lil' country stream I so adore. Such heavenly beauty my brown eyes behold...who could ask for anything more. Such a peaceful quiet in the beauty of the country I have found. As cherry blossoms float so gently like feathers that fall to the ground. The weeping willow tree blows so gracefully as it waves to me this blessed day. As the warmth of the sun kisses my skin whilst I wander emerald hills and play.
Fae circles of mushrooms Lanky yellow toadstools Firm jelly tot larvae Feed from rich stagnant pools. Fungal disks cling with wanton To the grey trunks of trees Cricket strums join to bird song Sending messages of peace. Lambent beams break through foliage Gradient tones tint the scene Yellow, purple, and whites showcased by backgrounds of green. Fractured rock nests bright flora Compost mats engage moss A place of breach and survival. Nature's gain, (one might say) is the product of loss.
A solar wind caresses the mighty oceans blue, Creates the waves, stirs the hearts of the true. The spirit leaves the sea and floats on high, To gather the dreams that make poets sigh. When they reach saturation they at last take flight, In search of lovers, adrift in the darkest of night. Each dream a raindrop that freefalls though time, Each drop a perfection, each dream sublime, A prism to the soul or perhaps an angel's tear, As it floats and drifts, through the atmosphere. Its colour and shape so clear and fragile, Yet set on its course despite all the toil. To replenish the land, refresh us each and all, Oblivious to their beauty as they tumble freefall. Each bead of perfection races to shatter, On the land, its people and all that matter. To wash the dry soil, to cleanse the city, To grow the crops, dull the gritty. Yet fail to heed its might and splendour, When it can destroy, kill and can render. There's sorrow in those raindrops, so to glee, It's visible in its beauty-beast so plain to see. As it gives life as it dies, a true resurrection, The raindrop can certainly be a cruel perfection.
Glads and the lilies that grow very tall Petunia and pansies...I do love them all My favorites, however, are not really owned Not found in the garden, but growing alone Kissed by the sun and tossed by the breeze Running through clover or wherever they please Not planned, unintended, still they remain Untouched by the hoe and watered by rain Favorites of mine, I picked as a child These flowers ignored, were born to be wild
The meadow's breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew, a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you. Green and warm, full of life, the forest's skirt, the Maid's delight, where rabbits dwell in lovers' dells, a dream in morning light. Gold and bright, full of life, the forest's skirt and Knight's delight; life lies in grasses high, where lovers sleep and passion cries. White and fair, full of life, the forest's skirt of pearly white; burrowers sleep in bowers deep, hearths alight on chill nights. The meadow's breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew; a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you. The men have made the meadow home, no rabbits now play there, no deer appear so near the roads for cars bring them dispare. The meadow was home to many things, butterflies, birds on wing, yet, few can dwell where men reside, the forest's skirt swept aside. The meadow's breath a gift to all, the mist, the morning dew, a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you.
~Spring versus Summer~ (Rhyme) Spring is slowly leaving And summer is swiftly arriving And for me that really matter Because the days are getting hotter I love spring but mostly I love fall That's when I really have a ball That's when the days are just kinder By reminding me when days are just better! I hate to see spring go, And for summer to my door just to show, I don't like to feel all the heat, Because that's when my body takes the beat I prefer much better the cold weather But I like it more when we are together, Lots of rain and winds start to fall and blow, Spring is about to exit and take her bow Spring is slowly leaving And summer is swiftly arriving It makes me sad to see spring go And for summer to my door just to show. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2007 January.31.2015
Floral expanse Roses in vivid colours that smiled in glamour, Red blood to be garlanded at valour, White lilies bunching hearty and serene, Catching lovers' fancy to the extreme, Lavenders at the crest of mountains, Challenging beauties of the terrains, Merrigolds shining bright with sunrise, Worshipping aroma to no surprise, Dahlia, orange and yellow poppies dance, Oleander with their pink flowers put us in stance, Irises swayed taller on their stalks, Bougainville like trumpets' melody outlast, Bluebells borrowed colour from the sky, Yellow dandelions woke up in golden bright light, Tulips were as bright as showers, Their beds flamed like throbbing rings of fire, Forming shadows were rows of white flowers, On azure coloured ground like trails of shooting stars, Tiny wildflowers illuminated the grass, Like jewels in the dust to nature's sarcast ! Written November 27th, 2014 For contest 'Encounter with flowers' by Anthony Slausen
A ship is safe in the harbor, But that's not what ships are built for. Because in the sum of our human gleams, We have created the vessel for our dreams. Its purpose: to retrieve the alien shore, To scout, seek, achieve and explore. A ship is meant to fly and fly, To seize the horizon and capture the sky. And the few of us with the intrepidity, To brave the virulent vortex velocity We are the wealthiest of men ever to dream And ever to combat a sea or a stream. And the harbored ships that fritter away, Slowly begin to rot and decay. Never has there been a greater waste of a day, Than that spent harbored, Than those of us who stay.
Here further down the hillside slope Down close to the creek with hope My husband bought a house, land Fenced in and made many plans Subdued the land to cow pasture And planted a garden, fruit trees sure Fathered another child to call him sir The creek seemed to like the stir Enjoyed the children for a little while___ Loved them so that it made her smile Today she loves grandchildren the same No girls there are in frills ___tame The creek keeps on flowing to the sea The land is mostly stripped of trees (This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace". I hope that it does not insult his work.)
When Mother Earth speaks to Father Sky She gently lets out a whisper sigh A gentle breeze to send her kisses Across the blue, she sends her wishes Father Sky, please send gentle rain To feed our children once again She blows a kiss in perfect time To free the sun again to shine Then blows her petals across open meadows Before moon overtakes sun's evening shadows Now she sleeps, where none will know Exactly where her wind doth blow.... Tomorrow she'll rise to speak to Father Sky Of secrets shared upon winds lullaby ©Donna Jones ©Donna Jones
(This is a "childhood" poem, written many years ago.) High above the pristine falls the looming mountain lifts its walls. A monolith of stony gray, with bulky lips, it seems to say: "Eons passed since I've been here; nothing have I seen to fear while above my walls, from year to year, about the world below I peer. My walls so high, so steep and strong, protect me well from all that's wrong. Would that Man below could see how I keep all harm from me. Would that he could build a wall about his home, his family -- all -- to keep them safe from Evil's charm, which causes Man unending harm."
I remember a sunset you gifted to me long ago an afternoon of sun,sky and sea paintbrush touch changing the sky indigo to pink golden sun turning soft was about to sink crimson sky looking down to see its reflection sea was too turning red its blue already gone few unknown birds in western sky on their last flight carrying sundrops on their wings whispered goodnight soon the sun went down and a hush engulfed all this sunset you gifted me I can still recall. ================000=================
Below the fingers reaching, growing Into darkness, stretching..holding Feeding above tiny buds of green Working day and night, beauty unseen Preparing a mighty fortress strong and bold To withstand battles, ancients foretold Above saplings bend supple in summer breeze Not realizing, soon comes winter's freeze Life's cycles pass from season to season Saplings now majestic, offering no reason Below the mysterious changes take place Green turns to rainbows, across horizons face Encased in ice, and snow of white They sleep, feeding both day and night Awaiting first tiny buds of green Below the magic remains unseen ©Donna Jones
The lake is a plate of evening blue Here where mists of dew sprinkle the view Under lilting skies the undulating sea Stretches far beyond infinity Silent and calm, no hint of green Smooth as silk with translucent sheen Rippling blue as far as fingers can see Yet when the moon's luminosity Fondles the surface where the wavelets flow Twinkling jewels are dew-pearls' glow To easels of moonbeams on a crystal sea How incredibly beautiful this vignette can be... © For Brian Strand's Image Theme Contest/ 2 to 14 Lines By nette onclaud
nature sings softly her lively recital everything is glorious and looks vital the swans exhibit courtship behavior their dances visual pieces for their spring-paviour thrushes chitter their earliest symphony birdseed germinates and outspreads spring widely two newts show a beautiful mating dance strawberry plants use their early spring chance a show of new born green just above the ground alders pollen causing sneezing peoples' sound few snowdrops, celandine, white dead nettle and hazel trees show leaves and huge mettle appetite dictates this walk with our dog a craved annual entry in our blog at length awaited while walking and watching dozens of reasons for thinking and talking the artificial Christmas tree just packed the baubles and the glass peak safely wrapped a large cup of hot chocolate a good mate served forthwith stale Christmas cookies on a plate (c) Elly Wouterse (edited 12/17/2014)
Brand new day climbs up in east Paint the sky blue..earthly feast Yesterday`s promises being fulfilled And those who failed,yet again rebuild Sun yawns and stretches her sunbeams Blessing us with life..endless she gleams Eternal shining diamond in the sky Worth more than money could ever buy As the day closes..from the bottom of my heart My dream is that we will always have a new start A.Ertsland April 18th 2012 I belive that Mother Nature..and mankind deserves a new tomorrow. Fresh and charged to tackle lifes` many challenges.
< Cascading lakes and streams The loon stands out it seems Minnesota's state bird I know it must sound absurd Adopted in nineteen sixty one Wails and yodels heard under the sun Black and white bearing red eyes Wingspans five feet can make one cry Body lengths up to three feet Yet clumsy on lands and moss peat They are high speed flyers And great underwater divers They can dive up to ninety feet In pursuit of fish they want to eat They are even on our license plates An critical habitat drawn on metal slates Twelve thousand of these unique birds God that has to be a lot of turds But for now I'll enjoy it's captured views Of this beautiful loon and it's most colorful hues Written By Katherine Stella Entry For Mini - Blog Beautiful Bird Contest By Constance ~ A Rambling Poet
I seek the lull-- To feel the tranquility of the night The hush of birds in calm respite The quiet compose of ancient trees The muted hymn on dulcet breeze On quiescent ridge of nocturne quest Find soothing balm on angel's breath. Abeyant mind, free of hurt or qualm Opens to Christ when faith is strong Fearfully reached to touch a lightning rod But found instead, the hand of God.
Kiss The Rain I dug the earth with sharpened blade I turned it with that hefty spade For hours my arms did sweat and toil To prepare for you the soil I made it smooth with my long rake The stones remove and clods to break I work to make your little heads Warm and comfy in your beds A furrow straight and deep I draw And place you tender in that score I cover you, make sure your firm Hope your safe there with the worm And so for now my toil is done Its up to you the rain and sun For I have done all that I know To encourage you to grow From time to time I look to see If you have broken through for me For I would love to see again You soak the sun and kiss the rain R D Seal 25 Feb 13
Leaves are beauty of the Master's touch …beds of leaves for homes of squirrels and such Bunched by opossum in the hollow of an old oak log …arranged in a thicket by a caring mother hog They wave to a lonesome soul in the summer breeze …nature's devise of cozy blanket in winter's freeze And you ask me if I love leaves and trees …provides great shades for summer's picnics, "Leaves" Leaves have butterfly flight, floating gracefully about …catching sun's rays bobbing multi colored with clout Golden, russet and burnt orange of autumn equinox …Beautiful LEAVES!, Thank God for nature's clocks. In Honor of Carol Brown And Contest:
From stark equinox, a cold wind blows Maiden Winter closes the final rose, Now she stands at the frosted gate Decked in pristine robe so ornate Dusted leaves drift from balding trees; Crowning tiny pearls of arctic breeze. Her wand sparks pale Eos' quiet thrill Quilts of eyelids wake on threadbare hill, Soon kingdom's carpet will turn to steel And dashes of fairies pour a misty reel. All snow -bound hours and icy nights Blinkies*, a million twinkling lights Scatter their magical flakes once again, For powdered toes to whisk on capped lane. And so the frigid bouquets will cling Till crystals explode across Beira's* wing. © *Eos- Greek Titan goddess of dawn *Blinkies—Jamaican term for fireflies *Beira—Celtic goddess of Winter Fairy Tails Contest by nette onclaud
Fall fell in and flat lined Summer's promiscuous pulse. "You've had your play now go: enough of your insults. You sent your disastrous rain where it wasn't needed, And where it was, cries for your moisture went unheeded. Get behind me and go. Earth's inhabitants need rest. They need quiet and beauty, and I can do that best. Coolness and crisp color is called for; rustling leaves. The smell of newly harvested corn in the fresh breeze, Smashed glass stars in a cold clear black sky, Thin lines of smoke from chimneys rising high. They need my beauty and rest before winter's weary, white, to build again strength, and joi de vivre 'ere the frozen night."
I look across the windswept canyons, see the blazing trees. A gold and russet ocean swells beneath the autumn breeze. It surges as the highest tide to reach the mountain tops. An endless wave of beauty rushing on, it never stops. And in the sky of tangerine, its gulls are birds that glide across this sea of fantasy into the eventide. The disappearing flock of geese and waning sun imbue nostalgia that engulfs the soul enraptured by the view. My valley home, like ocean's strip of shore, now calls to me, a voyager who must depart from gilded mountain sea.
Reposing roses and dozing posies exhale perfumed sighs with nearing night as the drowsy June moon softly suffuses scent-soaked skies with languid light. 14/6/2013 for 'Lovin' Summer' contest
Virgin snow sparkles in the darkest hour as stardust dances with celestial power. Silently it rains upon mother earth giving witness to such an idyllic birth. A fawn and doe now break the glaze like tiny spoons upon crème brulees. Below Polaris they prance and snort, for they seem to know the time is short. For such a night is a rare event, as blue light above is heaven sent. Wondrous luminescent tranquility trumps any earthly poet's ability. Now the first rays pierce the frigid night and Orion's bow soon fades to light. White carpet dulls now without the luster of a nocturnal painter, the starlight duster. James Nichols 12/29/12
Come to me and lay down your wearies, In the bed of rose petals rest appease. The soft voice of siren will send you in to bliss. 'Til you close your eyes and start dreaming in peace. Dance with me, I'll take you in heavenly place. Where angels and fairies singing a song of praise. Fly high and touch the ceiling of sky. Feel the pleasure within of nature's lullaby. written: 5/21/2014 Contest name: it's all about nature #3 Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
I nestle comfortably in the sand, Sitting next to you, hand in hand. A cool breeze, and salt in the air, The wind picks up and whips around our hair. The stars glitter and shine so bright, I'm glad we decided to go out tonight. Waves crash violently against the sand, This is the most romantic night you ever planned. So simple, yet so full of thought, I'm sorry earlier that we had fought. I see that you're a love so dear, I also know that I need not fear. As we sit on this white, sandy beach Its the sound of peace that we seek. Lay me down and gently kiss my lips, Place a hand on either one of my hips. A sigh of content escapes my mouth, As we stare at the constellations to the South. I wish this night could last forever, As we journey on our new endeavor. Sadly, it won't, but that's okay. As we enjoy ourselves on the beach we lay. What is it about the ocean that makes me at peace? With each wave, my calmness, seems to increase.
Wide brushstrokes of indigo cross the waning blue. Behind cloud curtains the sun is trying to break through. Playful silhouettes dance there like a sultry tease, Peaking, hiding, laughing, smiling, trying so to please. Colored like a negligee with lacy shades of pink And casting flirting flashing glances, tempting with a wink. Shining through the stage is lit with her bright brilliant rays. The shafts pour down, reaching ground, among the contours play. As bolder strokes of indigo brush down upon the shore, One final slash defiantly appears for its' encore. Then like it came behind the shades now once again it's gone, And whispered final goodnight kiss, I'll see you in the morn. Jan. 31, 2013
I am the wind thru the trees The apple blossom on fragrant breeze A solitary sunbeam on a cloudy day The rhythm of life as the tall oaks sway I am the stream teaming with life And the orchard, sweet, when all is ripe Before creation was spoken to be I am that I am, and I am He Christopher Thor Britt Motif: Spiritual
There, watch, the clouds part and light shafts blackest night particles of doss drift through a ray of white. Ah, revelation unasked for, and unwanted, coming endlessly unasked, and never daunted. I see the bitter blight of man's neglect lay upon the once fertile field of summer hay. I see a mighty ocean writhe and foam, die and n'er a voice is lifted, n'er an angry cry. I see children put their parents out to die and parents who accost their children with lies. Ah, revelation unasked for, and unwanted, coming endlessly unasked, never daunted.
If I were a bird, would you clip my wings then cage me away with pretty things? And, if my wings were to be clipped why not just burry me within a crypt, For a cage is too small for a master of sky, I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly. For to have wings that cannot soar, then why not nail me to the floor? Tonight I shall make my final swan song knowing I have been locked away so long. For a cage is too small for a master of sky, I was meant so kiss the sun, soar, and fly. So still the caged bird, she sings without her sky, without wings. Sometimes laments, sometimes sighs, sometimes she whistles her own reprise. For a cage is too small for a master of sky I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly. So then curious is it, the caged thing who finds she has the heart to sing? Because it would seem a great strain to be caged seems twisted and profane, for a cage is too small for a master of sky, I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly. When asked, why do you sing, bird? The answer is a simple word, hope, for escape from behind these bars that keep me caged from the stars. For a cage is too small for a master of sky, I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly. Birds should have no master, no kings and love cannot be clipping wings. But now it seems I must live confined, in this hand crafted cage of your design, but a cage is too small for a master of sky I was meant to kiss the sun, soar, and fly. So must I wait for these wings to heal and relearn how the wind may feel. If I must be caged, still my heart sings of the day I can again use my wings.
Crisp Autumn seeps through the day Dew balances a fresh cut blade Tangerine skies seethe God's Grace Summer's vehment blaze...replaced Slipping sweetness around my pillow Cool winds dance with weeping willow Stars twinkle down through thick dense trees As spirits dance in fresh Autumn's breeze
Wandering past the boundaries of his small reservation, Crescent Moon saw the land of his ancestors' generation. Tales handed down spoke of vast plains where buffalo used to roam, but plains had become cities, animals had found a new home. Most of the creatures had been captured, tagged and placed into zoos; Anger coursed through Crescent Moon's veins as tears from his eyes did ooze. Tribal leaders had told him that the sky was once a bright blue, but now smog was so thick that only faint rays of sun pierced through. Seeing mountains in the distance, he pursued a vision quest taking him through streets that were once the great forests of the West. Snowy peaks he finally reached, but they were lined by ski resorts. Fire burned in him, knowing beauty had been sacrificed for sports. As he climbed over peaks to view a river flowing below, he saw only tainted waters that caused his anger to grow. Sadly, slowly, he made his way back to the reservation, knowing there was no way to reverse what the white man had done. Although others had adjusted to life in captivity, he'd no longer participate in tribal festivity. Instead he made his home in a cave behind a waterfall, to envision his land as it once was, not a shopping mall. *Entry for Francine's "A Nature Tale" contest. By Carolyn Devonshire, September 30, 2011
What would skies be without the mist, Clouds colored by the dawn, sun kissed? Such splendor rising pink and blue, Lavender, silver, gold spun too. Their shapes float softly through the sky Cast in hues of Apollo's eye. Gold, contrasts birds in silhouette While dawn shines through their misty wet As clouds express their sweet refrain And we are blessed by morning rain. When rainbows form in misty skies Clouds present treasures for our eyes. © Connie Marcum Wong
Although it's neither here or there I do love the mountain air Fresh and crisp with its own bite The river flows through the blanket of white It's all in life that is pure and clean The river sparkles with it's own sheen Up here in the air that is lighter than light I open my soul through the words I write Through my words I write out a show For those who have never seen the snow Every breath you take is like a dream With eyes amazed at the beauty they have seen You close your eyes to process it all And realize we are rather small
Her face is wrinkled, cratered, and scarred; It's far from flawless; agèd; hard. But when the night is right, she'll overflow, For about her is an indelible glow; A glorious white that lights the sky As I kiss her surface with my distant eye, And stretch out my fingers for a feel But she steps an inch back, arousing appeal; I wish the nights would bleed over days So I could bathe in her luminous ivory rays. Cursed be the sun, for when comes the dawn With an opalescent yellow yawn.
It's in-between and all around, It can't be seen or even found. It fills us up and helps us breathe, It moves the grass and shakes the leaves. Some days it's warm, some days it's cold, Sometimes it's still, sometimes it blows. It moves the clouds and stirs the seas, It spreads the pollen and throws the seeds. It's up above and down below, It's everywhere we tend to go. TLH © 2-14-2012
Sitting downstream in this delightful setting When you close your eyes there is just no forgetting I can still see the scene that my mind has captured The most glorious of colours leaves me in rapture The bluest of sky seeps through a canopy I behold Mirrored on the stream it's dreamy blues unfold Ancient stones sit like islands in the sun Creating ripples of motion in downstream run But it's the avenue of colours that delights my eyes Season after season she always leaves her surprise Greens mix with golds, ochres yellows, reds and browns A spectacular collage paints this bright Autumn gown Within weeks to a month until the last leaf falls Then her seasons move on as Winters installed http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-11.php
Come and visit me in a dream, And tell me how you are, Are you floating on a cloud? Have you found the brightest star? I know you're with us somewhere, Even though you can't be seen, Painting the bluest sky, Or among the grass so green. As I'm wandering through the park, Looking up at the trees, Daydreaming of the joy you brought, Will you visit me please? Just send me a little sign, White feathers on the breeze, To let me know you're happy, free And put my mind at ease. Or ask a passing stranger, With twinkling brown eyes, A cheeky smile, and baldy head, To nod as he passes by. Or maybe play a special song, Loud, on my radio, That could have been written just for you, About all the love we've known. Come visit me in a dream, And tell me how you are, I know you're there, a floating cloud, And one of the brightest stars.
Ancient deity of water and sky Hear my most unworthy cry Know that I ask without greed or guile To borrow your strength for a little while Although this prayer is my desire I only ask what is truly required Bathing in your sacred breath As I sit in this circle in the earth Knowing the elemental power I convene with you at this zero hour
Trees in bloom Winter's doom Birds fly high Against the sky Endless shower Season's power Will amaze you Through and through As the light Warm and bright From the sun Dance and run Atop some trees Or float on bees Across a plain Or in lion's mane You will feel the power of Mother Spring's forever love.
The world very real but hidden from the light Sometimes shakes the soul with fear sometimes dazzles with delight Always it makes for awe inspiring sight If one sees through the hidden door to view its majesty that senses will excite The birch tree stands slender and tall Its bark is always white winter spring or fall It is on its bark that information hidden in the soul Are written on so the druids it may extol The forms as bizarre as procession of mind can intake Are hidden beyond the sun when it is about to wake Hidden in the spirit behind history of earth Hidden in numbers so large their very thought can unravel existence to form new birth As its zenith with spiritual transcendence will intertwine The results are sublime The imagination almost beyond divine As the wind of change blows through birch unveiling majesty of souls' design
The old Queen is losing her glorious crown Her glittering diamond tiara is going down In its prime, it shone golden, now yellowing See the crimson ball, getting soft, mellowing. Splashing colors in my sky, huge ball of paint Once scorching, now calm and pensive as a saint! As you release the long day deep in the blue sea A vibrant, livid twilight canvas, create for us to see Other side of this enchanting horizon, resting you may be Giving us the shimmering night spread, peace for mine and me!
Dense fog lingers and crawls Forrest trails lead to the falls Cool shaded streams flow silently Stars strewn above shine brilliantly Morning sky flirting with night Clouds run together dark meets light Orange Rust Clouds trying to shine Darkness and time staying behind
I am the predator you watch up in the sky Blessed by the Lord with the keenest of eyes I nest in the canyons high up on the walls Keeping my babies safe from it all When my babies grow hungry and it's time to feed I rely on my senses to provide what they need As I take to the sky it's so clear to see You think of freedom while looking at me Protected from hunters I've no need to hide As upon the currents I gracefully glide As I circle the sky throughout the day I scour the ground searching for prey When prey is spotted I go into my dive Know that speed and accuracy are how I survive You duck and you dodge for no use at all With you held in my talons I fly back up the wall Back to the nest to the fruit of my seed For you are the food my babies need Then back to the sky where I notice under a tree One peaceful poet is writing of me
When the sun has set like a ball of fire colors like a funeral pyre crescent moon in deep blue sky indigo blue that sears the eye crickets start their monotonous beat praying in the sultry heat hand in hand and heart to heart infants waken with a start old man takes his dying breath soul escapes his body's death spiders cross doorways with their web a work of art so filled with dread the rapping on the midnight door the ghost who's there was here before a child cries out, a nightmare dreamed realities blur and rip the seams what may appear as solid fusion is just an agreed upon illusion.
I stand in awe and contemplate nature's beauty Deep within I feel a very real sense of duty Awe that I can marvel at a butterfly's flight Then from my heart be able of butterflies write I contemplate how plants can sustain survival Especially when it is such a dry year all upheaval Yet God the great designer knew just what to do To assure food, beauty, life as seeds strew I muse on little happenings in nature As a water droplet trickles down to nurture Small creatures of the early morn and give sup As they can drink from the leaf as if a cup I meditate on God's goodness at these times In His presence I humbly bow and flows rhymes This meditating releases stress worry in time I can feel the touch of the Great Sublime I understand there is a Supreme Being When I look at his creation I am agreeing Of his forethought on making the earth With all its beauty, constancy and rebirth I stand in awe at the wonder of it all From the Grand Canyon to an ocean squall I stand in awe at the mountain ranges capped with snow Of God's love for those in the valley below Contest:Chose your theme Sponsor: Paula Swanson *Note...Click on About This Poem For full enjoyment
The sky on days become too full And gravity will start to pull And capture every bubble frame While popping corks off rich champagne The trees will fool and start to dance And still the time on every branch With baron shrine and fruits to bare The wind that strokes and blows through hair On top-down journeys come to pause And settle howls with loud applause Before acceding way too fast They leave a trail that sprouts from past Of flitter flatters in delight And pitter patters out of sight Extending dreams as arms beseech To touch the always out of reach Parting ways, they kiss goodnight Before the lips close way too tight The watermarks miraged for miles With poppy sighs and angel smiles A substance of the rarest rare The healing voice of hearts that care The silver clouds left in its wake Remain untouched for heaven's sake It can't be met from anywhere But viewed to share the secret stare and ponder why it's so reborn Transparent in its naked form It paints the sky with gold perhaps For all to drink from natures tap The air contains the future's plot Seen at times, at others not It's written in the stars you see Eclipsed by mind and soul-ar key Failure amidst surrounds of air That doesn't mean love isn't there
There is that barn again The red peeling paint shouts Old worn gray tired it says Memories running track Back in the fourties when Youth did reign rule really When the paint was new red Dancing and prancing here Singing joy fiddle plays Squares were formed to music Kicked up her heels in time Red paint new drew her beaus Well now that tired worn look Only need new coat_paint
Armano the Auracano of Rock Star fame Will never be singing on his stage again A fan. a critter, or even a possum Has taken his life, he will no longer blossom He was a handsome dude, tall and preened With shiny red rustic feathers, and did the girls scream A newspaper reporter asked his manager Dane It must be hard for you, as you will miss him playing Yes i will, things will never be the same But another star will be born, to look after his dames
Immersed in the sound of the low rustling wind Memories and places they haunt yet again Passed by so quickly as each falling leaf Drifting and flowing on an unyielding stream A current to carry from birth right on through Filling our moments with cares which ensue A mind lost in remnants of lovers and friends Babies and children and time long since spent Familiar, intangible, just out of reach Longing for ghosts that my heart doth beseech Winter is looming and summer is past A time for remembrance the years gone so fast Beauty is captured in my last breath of life The sparkling colors in the warm golden light Do mimic the glory and wonder be told In those bright days of autumn and a life to behold
Star Magnolia in the winter cold Can you give me any hope to hold There on your branches, buds of silver In this cold, I feel them shiver But they are giving me a shred of hope That soon spring will surely kaleidoscope
As I listen to the lark's surreal melody to her mate. I wonder does she ever feel there's too much on her plate? Ever beside him juggling, tediously feathering the nest, in her discomfort struggling, incubating without rest. I wonder if in her daydreams does she laze as her mind lingers in bygone days pursued by teams, of young and gallant singers? Or does she occupy her days with tending her small brood not entertaining winsome ways as gaping nibs crave food? Does he while out a'gathering, squirming tidbits for their young, ever give way to lathering 'cause his work is never done? Does his keen eye ever wander over lighter creamy breasts allowing himself to ponder his days of youthful quests, or does his steadfast honor seek but to gather and bring home supper for each tiny beak never thinking once to roam? As I hear the song bird warble, with expectancy to her mate I'm thankful for each morsel placed in love upon my plate. And listening to the lark refrain his bride's devoted call, I find being called a birdbrain the best compliment of all.
I'm sitting by the river in the centre of Inverness In a place we call the islands, beauty in capture finesse It's late into the evening as I listen to the cold grey flow So soothing in this tranquil setting, inside I'm all aglow I take this time to pause and close my eyes and listen For in my mind I picture the full moons rivered glisten This winter coat instrumental resonates with echoing sounds Pipistrelle bats and Starlings flock, the latter in roosting surround Whilst in the distance canines bark in a language we can't even comprehend The picking up of natures delights, in unlimited voiced transcend As I sit through these melodic notes I begin to realise That I am here to hear these sounds and every ones a prize I'm still sitting by the river in the centre of Inverness If you ever desire to sit beside me, please do, you'll be my guest http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/inverness.php
Hop right on my back turtle slow and green skinned bark A journey to tag every bit left of nature it's something I know that you can't help but do... We'll pass up the river here soon on the right The fish live in bubbles and cry in the night You'll catch them with words that you've wanted to say I'll take you there now but can't show you the way Then we'll pass Jaw Dropping Junction and Turn where the fork in the forest continues to burn You'll see every mother who's lost every child Prepare yourself now, for the fires gone wild We'll take a left there (Watch your eyes in the smoke) to the plateau of kindness where someone once spoke and commenced planting saplings, to bridge to the moon We'll reach there by morning, or latest, by noon We'll dine with the remnants of Frick and of Frack (the tribe of white elephant twins and their pack) They'll trumpet of oceans gone under the sea They'll laugh when I tell them that they can be free For they have been sentinels long since the fire and they'll not give up, or saunter, or tire They hold great conferences up in Malloo where they talk about me and they talk about you Perhaps every human, who sets out to trod by the skin of his birth, with no notion to laud the immeasurable gift of all animal kin should consider these words, somewhere deep there within: The animals know us - they know every name and they'd never destroy us, though we'd do the same But one day, we'll pay for each folly and crime with an internal conscience, do plenty hard time One look at an orphan, grasping for breath One ocean in oil, polluted with death will break us with feeling and kill us in kind for think of this thought, somewhere deep in your mind: We're breathing the air that the animals breathe. We take and we take and they hardly receive. The clocks winding down and we've something to do and that something begins here with me and with you
I can't seem to find the words to properly express My love for nature at its best I think if I could describe one part My favorite would be the stars Like diamonds they sparkle and shine Lighting the way to heaven divine Only for one moment a cloud passes by You know they are there though they hide The moon it hangs in wait all through the night At dawn the sun brings us daylight Again the stars go away to hide You know they are waiting for the night A Universe of stars and planets too A miraculous and romantic view
Adoration grows tenfold, sublime serenity convenes Above the starry skies I see legends meet Cloaked in a whisper of a mist delighting the mind's eye Gently gliding towards my sight I draw a deep sigh Contemplation of wispy memories long said Succumbing to whimsical, perhaps unheeded shred Great beauty insistent in its plight Grips my very haphazard sight Alas I cry but I look anew Surrendering to wondrous view Conjoining eves amid midsummer's bathed conviviality Intensely gorgeous plateaus encounter mystical assembly Magnificent sceneries encompass still untouched milieu Astonishment weathered by saturating the view Stilled backdrops sprouting splendour inspired Awed by intimate fervour the mind remains wired When days have dawned and dusk has drawn Pray hear me do not grow untimely forlorn For the day may draw to a close but know Another so splendid will surely grow
Try To Appease Perhaps in hall closets things you hide While others may be your joy and pride Like flowers planted coming to full bloom Wanting people to see outside from your room. Colors are truly dazzling as well as bright What people end up with is pure delight But always ever present will be the fear Of an anxious, hungry and delightful deer. Big bite from flowers deer has just taken By my gracious God have I been forsaken God, all of nature please try to appease As I pray for flowers' safety on bended knees. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran
When the sun hits the bellies of the humble clouds at dusk I'm amazed, I'm entranced, I am but a speck of dust. When the gulf eats the sun in a nibble and a bite all my senses stand up tall to applaud the gift of sight When the mountains cradle shadows 'gainst the pink of sunlit trees you will find me deep in prayer toward the one with wise decrees And when I'm standing next to you with our two hands intertwined I am brilliantly alive with the knowledge you are mine...
My nightmare is so tangible...so vividly I dream, The dream, it feels so true to me...reality it seems. Exhaust and smoke are all I breathe...the air is full of smog... The job I do is thankless toil, but I work it like a dog. There's mercury in the fish I eat...there're toxins in my food... And drugs, they are a constant scourge...myriads for every mood. Bipolar is my government...a house divided 'tis... And corporations drive both sides...in the pockets of "Big Biz". The icecaps, they are melting...the sea is rising, too. Pandas, condors, polar bears -- empty cages at the zoo. My money ne'er seems quite enough...I'm always out of cash... My freedom fled when I wed my bride...(live I under the lash). "Entertainment"? Reality TV...maybe some vampire shows... Or idjits becoming household names for being beachfront "ho's". People clamor "climate change" from the seats of S.U.V.'s, And bitter news on the honey front...what's killing all the bees? Politicians spending more...we go deeper in the red. Opinions dressed as "news" abound...is journalism dead? Cell phones are ubiquitous...conversation's endangered now... And "Kardashians" are famous girls..but who knows why or how? How strange my twisted psyche is t'make real what must be fake... Now'f only I could find some way to get myself to wake. Written on November 27th, 2012 By Daniel Beus (Rebel Sun)
A staff is more than handhold, its worn to the grasp, trust in what fell down from above. The llama's sure foothold fits like our staffs in the rocks climbing upward to the top to the sky. We risk the blaze of sun, for the wide wings of condor soaring, spiraling, hunting for a meal, never assured except for his hold on the sky, flight, supreme over the rocks and tumbles and worn out straw of season of cold passing into days of warmth. The spindle clatter, the roil and curve of weft needle a prayer to on high, like the spirals of rock to the sky the sun speaking to us at feet, these are complete to the rest and remain of our escape to safety in the cradle of our summer retreat, waiting for stars to fall among us, waiting for stars to carry us away from homes built within a circle of spires, three spires to bring the ley lines of power into our grasp, to offer escape from the dust and dung we live in, amazed.
We are born into a Utopian world where everything lives and let lives Politeness and manners exist as society never lets sieve We learn to live with our neighbours amidst colours that nature has born Living well into our tomorrows without the fear of being war-torn Prejudice has never been heard whilst cussing never nears our ears To walk our streets at whenever, over our shoulder you will never fear, fears When we are born into a Utopian world where everything lives and let lives The reason this can all come about, is purely because everyone gives * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * We are born from a fallopian world where reasons dictate how we live Politeness and manner exist, sadly society has allowed them to sieve Many learn to live with their neighbours amidst colours of nature born Some live into their tomorrows, many enter the doors of war-torn Prejudice appears to be worsening, cussing appears the norm Many are scared to walk our streets as many out there have form When we are born from the fallopian world where reasons dictate how we live We don't enter what we hope is Utopia, many take and rarely give
Somewhere in the city beneath the BLISSFUL sun A gardener has planting to do with her green thumb WHISPERING by are butterflies with ELOQUENT colors to the eye Perched above on a limb the neighborhood bird begins to sigh It declares with LILTING and TRANQUILITY a SPLENDOR to be heard Thrusting quickly overhead a bluebird cries with DULCET words Further down the garden path the FRAGRANT LAVENDER came WAFTING past The rhythmic swaying to the grass gave way to summer at last Inspired by Andrea Dietrich's "Word warrior challenge: beautiful words"
The breath of spring gives us new hope after a long winter is our only way to cope Fresh leaves are so green and new bringing forth life in another hue Flowers, the shade, the birds and bees all busy with life as we look to the trees Summer songs from the wind as the trees talk just waiting for a couple to rest after a long walk Here and there a yellow leaf shows its locks the autumn season is just around the block We loose a few leaves as we watch them fly but we gain much more with fruit for a pie When mornings start to get a little colder the colors in the leaves get much bolder As Autumn leaves fall and hide our path winter is around to corner to show it's wrath Edward J Ebbs - October 7, 2011
Last night I bore a troubled heart And prayed the Lord His peace impart... And dreamt I then of fancy things Of angel's wings, and Queens, and Kings Of pirate ships and maidens fair With emerald eyes and golden hair... Then, flying there on wings of thought Was quickened homeward sleeping brought And woke instead to cold of morn With worries lurking still forlorn... Then, while sipping coffee's wake Did by the garden respite take And playing there I spied two fox like stooges wearing reddened locks... I prayed the Lord to spare my grief And woke today to comic relief! Timothy I. Brumley
A is for algae, red, green, blue cells, soaking up sun, sliming teeth B is for bacterial mat, clumping underneath, earliest born, never asleep C is for coral reef, the place we all find cover or the sand parrotfish chew and release D is for diatom, all seeded calcium, all float free, all denizens barely seen E is for eelgrass, nursery meadows of the anchovy, and other browsers of green F is for fan worm, filter feeder like a flower, 8000 species on which fish feed G is for giant kelp, floating on bladders of air they're forests of cold waters clean H is for helmet, the royalty of snails who protect our feet, queen, emperor, king I is for isopod, the chameleon crustacean, they color match what they eat J is for jellyball, or cannonball jellyfish, not upside down or moon, avoid their heat K is for keyhole limpet, favorite food of ochre stars, will erect its own wall L is for laver, the sea lettuce of nori, it swirls red skirt as ocean falls M is for mermaid's purse, the sack of the skate whose yolk keeps them alive N is for nerite, the prisoner striped snail of the rocky zone as numerous as a hive O is for oyster drills, the snails that slurp oysters and use them to lay eggs P is for pleurobranch, a sea slug answer for oranges, with one active leg Q is for quahog, the bivalve seaman who can survive eating the mud R is for rove beetle, the one waiting to snatch the unwary beach hopper for good S is for saxitoxin, those red tides produced by mating that can paralyze humans T is for tubular sponge, they squish, bore and encrust as space lends U is for urchin, those spiny skinned balls, no eyes or noses but dig food in sand V is for Venus, Music Volutes dined or Vampire Squids skimming along land W is for whelk, not the musically inclined, but the slow moving snail in a shell X is for X and a half, the six rayed star, hungry for anything on the half shell Y is for yucca, blooming on the beach, they bloom nice and tolerate the sand Z is for Zostera marinara, the address of eel grass when they're feeling grand All of this green life is what crunches, stinks, dries and slips underfoot The rest that find the housing and dining compatible means someone's on the look.
The ghats,grey serpents in green thickets cool and moist, dampens restless midgets There ,in a hotel ,in the lushness of the tropic's crown are trees mighty tall with neat flights of stairs hanging down. stood perched on trees, a cabin each of uneven logs with wooden planks hand-polished to parqueted floors A large cypress cot,an inviting bed ,the sensuous Umrao-Jaan on canvas overhead, glowing in hues from a crystal pan white porcelain figures, lovers dancing on mantle;love lounges, windows open to wild flora , a few ripe mangoes hanging in bunches On the rails ruddy jasmine vines flaunt little white stars antique bamboo lanterns at the door , happy to be ajar warm aroma from oils of wild-herb toiletries exude wanting a trickle on the heated hearts' pursuit cute candles whispers roses and jasmine in the air nothing more, the imp of the mind feasts on love in the air. on the small balcony , the cool breeze of the underwoods caress In this tree-house,bask in nature...at its best to soothe five senses.
On my lilac tree the tender buds awake Breezes upon the bending branches break Sunshine glistens on the garden snail Across the path he's left his sticky trail Air fresh from weeks of winter rain Green now where the snow has lain A yellow daffodil bobs its pretty head Standing sentinel by the garden shed ' Purple violets bloom again this year Never planted, yet like magic, reappear From the window I quietly worship spring Winter quit, waiting for the thrush to sing...... For the Spring contest....
September softly comes, then leaves; October breezes in and with a touch of magic weaves her spell on us again, for happily at dusk we tread our secret path through trees that blaze in hues of gold and red as heaven turns cerise. And as I'm walking with my love, a chill wind starts to blow. we hasten to the entrance of a cozy bungalow. . . Our dinner's fixed; a fire's lit inside our hideaway. Beside a fireplace we sit at this, the close of day. As wood smoke rises to the sky, he warms me with a kiss, which lends the sweetest quality to my October bliss. For Brian Strand's OCTOBER YOUR CHOICE any theme/any form max 16 lines Poetry Contest
My eyes look upward to the dark sky So many clouds yet the ground is dry All around me nothing but the dust We need rain badly it is a must Wind is blowing clouds look alive Thunder and lightning will soon arrive A gap in the clouds a shaft of light Here in the darkness shining so bright Glowing large raindrops begiinning to fall Liquid excitement soaking us all Jumping in circles this is a good day All of our dust has been washed away Shaft of Light contest First attempt at a couplet February 7th 2013
3rd march2012, by: Sashi Prabhu (zeauoxian) Form: rhyming couplets Sandy tracks, still and dormant, lie await for us, Virgin sands of Malvan beach, its breeze my body salty caress. Through the grooves of coconut palms swaying tall, We trudge to the sandy shores backpack and all. Green thatched leaves. Crowns of glory, shade it extorts, Swinging hammock to nest me in my denim blues shorts. A strong breeze blows saline pelagic scented odor across, Blue waves melt to foam, kiss shores, hued shells emboss. Lonely eagle soar virgin blue skies, More of the brood join in and glide past fishing boats floating by. A murder of crows feast on our eaten table, As in the warm waters we dip, the crows our food they garble. The waves sound gushing rhapsody repeat, Us jovious beach bums in water enjoy the sunny heat. Dry fishing boats on logs they are on the sands to park, Lie along akin, like silent serpents, waiting for dusk to embark. Sea gulls they glide over silver wavy waters, Food seeking dives perform, for them that's what matters. A pack of dogs they frolic with glee, As the fisher folk heave coir ropes dogs from there flee. Golden sunlight darts out of stagnant clouds formless, Group of lads, beach volley ball they play tireless As I sit ten meters away from wet sandy shores, Melody erupts as waves repeat encore.
The fall has remnants of the summer, but the day's not hot, and all of our beloved are gathered in a woodland spot. Bearing their good wishes, they have walked the pathway to this autumnal chapel where I'll make my walk to you! Around us, in our wedding colors - fall's most splendid hues - is a bright mélange of flora with a sprinkling of chartreuse. The tallest oak here is the steeple, reaching to the sky; its leafy limbs have framed an arbor made to beautify! Your eyes are dancing, and you wear a sweet, cute pumpkin grin as I approach, adorned in flowing satin, argentine. Our union, blessed like nature dressed in hues of harmony, is sealed with loving kisses under a vermilion tree.
I watch with fascination; Mother Nature on a great warpath. Thunderous drums sound warning; soon to feel her rightful wrath. Thousands of black horses running boldly across the sky. Warriors branding spears of lightning, mounted with such pride. Angry at the white eyes, they circle with such speed. A deafening wind now gathers, neath their mighty steeds. We set upon destroying her, but her power is unbound. Her whirling fingers now reach down and pluck us from her ground. Her tears now flood our ugliness and wash it out to sea. So vivid is my vision, but too late we will believe. Written June 27, 2014 Contest: Storms Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
The overcast sky, the drizzling rain, the weather dictates my mood again. Grey and black clouds block the sun. A dismal morning has begun. A break in the gloom is what we need as through the clouds a shaft of light bleeds. One small ray brings a lift to the heart. I hold my breath ... and watch the clouds part. ~~~ 09/02/2013~~~ for Seren Roberts Shaft of Light contest
The wind has fallen, out of bluster, sun ices the sky upon the crust of frozen snow diadems arise. Glittering crowns crest maple trees, diamond on the bough they bring a beauty and a peace no soul can disavow. The wind has fallen, out of bluster, sun ices the sky twinkling like diamond remnants, snow lends the day surprise. Glittering crowns crest maple trees, diamond on the bough oh how I hate to hear the roar of the coming plough. Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Winter is the last and the coolest season of the year Where people love to play with snow everywhere Wearing jackets, mittens, socks, and boots Walking on winter's blanket on the roads Love to see the snowflakes cascading from the sky Like tiny bits of diamond that caress my face so dry Feels good to watch the snow and its beauty Showing elegance that I close my eyes peacefully Relax, feel the world full of whiteness on the ground Breathtaking scenery that happiness I finally found November 18, 2012 For SKAT's "Rhyming Poem" Contest 5th Place Winner
Mushrooms and meadows Sunshine and shadows Gentle ripples on the calm river Foaming rapids in white water The jungle echoes in the semi- darkness while daylight creepy crawlies clear the mess. Peasants seen toiling and pheasants go scratching as I spy a cricket kinda' somersaulting The cactus in imagination, the desert's prickly femmefatale Elsewhere a lone fallen leaf floats in the canal Prairie dogs go popping while hares go hopping But in town, ladies go shopping Swans have formed a V- line The flora is ooh yes divine and bees they form a bee-line! Seista seizes birdlovers too They miss out on the hoopoe's song for the hoopoe it does not sing on cue since a bird may sing anytime to woo Gosh what a contrasted medley became of the scenery Town and jungle, the eve's murk or dawn's greenery. Ah wherever you go nature's so panoramic Painters paint pictures but God actually created what's picturesque!
Through sand and haze beach goers stroll Leaving footprints where soft crested waves roll ~*~ 6/10/'13
Summer is on the turn, into Autumn we now head So close this day approaches, inside many heads now dread We now view through our eyes, our windows of life What do we see now, do we absorb our awaiting strife Be like me and others and listen to peripheral sounds It's what we have come to know, it's us all around Day by day we view, the turning of life's greenery But what are we going to see after, on this future days scenery Is it intrepid anticipation, human wondering entering it's abyss We're the blind leading our blind, just what do we make of this *~* The eve of this reckoning day, in hourly wait we await Autumn has taken it's turn, are us humans in use by date This morning we have awaited, curtains drawn I view There's something different about the sunrise, sees me a through From my balcony I witness, now seeing from where I am Shape shifting no longer applies, I just don't understand In sorrow fill hungered loss, I lose life's lust for thrall From my balcony I now witness, I view when shadows fall *~* Inspired by "Touchstone's" <> "When Shadows Fall" from their album "The City Sleeps"
She's teased by autum's last smile Her velvet petals unfold a short while Inviting...one last chance to pause Breathe in life, just because I see there, my honeybees dance Given this one glorious last chance I share their joy as I touch Smell the sweetness, I'll miss so very much The west is now glowing red Dark clouds, moving in overhead Velvet snow petals begin to fall Time for her to sleep after all...... ©Donna Jones
September, a moment to savor after grueling August drought, a season of pleasing, such as giving just one rain spout. Soon an equinox change will adjust period format, as squirrels scamper about storing their winter's fat. Leaves of compose piles in back yards and the wilds, a rich habitat, create images of squirming earth worm smiles. Shorter days meet to the changing phase of the equinox, as one will adapt to nature's way, setting back clocks. A September to remember sure, enjoying nature's clout, a kind of precedent round to remind one, without a doubt. Sacred principles in keeping good use of the fallowness, of the coming winter's splendor of the rest of Sabbath bliss. Oh yes, four seasons for good reason change human attitude, cycles of recycles, and change rearrange human habitude. In Honor of: Brian Strand. And Contest: September.
For the hills they undulate and roll, Set beneath a crimson sky. Image liken, to castle ramparts past, Now slowly worn away with time. For only seconds before the dawn, And the mighty sun to rise. Once more its rays to warm the earth, And ascend into the sky. For little bird how sweet you sing, As you usher now the new morn in. From branch to branch flit to and fro, Along the leafy wild hedgerow. For amongst the green, a dusting fare, Of pastel shades of color there. For gentle are the flowers that spring, Who's petals blossom like fairy wings. © N Windle.
New buds growing crisp and green in sheer delight. Singing birds come home to roost,on trees alight. Now butterflies seek nectar in the sunny fields. Farmers go to market with their summer yields. Hills cascade with color as the deer grow fat. Families gathered to eat turkey witness that. Time draws nigh to hang the lights of sparkling hues. Icy branches beautify,snowmen amuse! written March 13th 2014 for Gail's contest
My hand holds your hand and that`s enough. In the green`s intervals, the weather is rough; The blue wind freed its own ghost's chain Following the rhythm of the crystalline rain; With the leaf`s thrill and embrace`s embers Patient ruby hidden in alabaster chambers, Far from the desert of mirrors, standing aloof As vulnerable as the surge`s serenity`s proof; Simple surmise falling down with the mist, Suspension bridge above the yellow East; Looking from the season `s round roof, Solitude seems hit by a rueful cold hoof. Like the violet dawns date with the pale moon, Chapel`s morning joined the emerald afternoon; Air angels with white wings are our mates; Trees beg for heaven to let open the gates; We listen to inner chansons sung by Edith Piaf My hand holds your hand and that`s enough.
Sky greyed with sudden snow, cars slithered serpentine roads - a screech-slide of tyres on obsidian ice. Traffic slowed; indicators blinking against the driving white squall, engines' hot oiled throats throttled to standstill. Bitter winds whipped us raw; ice shrapnel's rip and tear piercing our lungs. Snatching gasps of spiked air, our stung skin numb from the blizzard's bite. Tempestuous snow smothered hematite night; gusting and mounding, turning black to white. By dawn, drifts dazzled with diamante light; air was achromatic, blanketed fields blanked, hills bleached to silence; the landscape blanched.
Autumn Air Dry and cool all in one Morning freshness, felt like none Gives me a boost, ready for the day The autumn air, come out and play So here I go, take me away Take it all in before you stray Written by: Debra Falgout Up in the Autumn Air Contest by: Russell Sivey October 16, 2012
In the midst of the dewdrops that sparkle the morning the bluebird of happiness sang without warning. Basking in the sun of a new day's light then spreading it's wings for a first day flight. The sun grew so large in the painted sky while creatures stirred in the forest nearby. Frolicking in the shadows the animals play in search of new adventures that may come their way. They stop and they sniff as humans come near to their woodland home but they feel no fear. As the dewdrops fade into afternoon delight the evening comes a calling with a beautiful starlit night. The furry ones scurry towards peaceful repose. In the forest they'll sleep till the morning light glows. Peace and love flourish in this forest all day long. May your mind enjoy the beauty before it's all gone. Thanks Dan...enjoyed working on this with you!
Trees are moss are grass are stones. Trees are spirit, nerves and bones. Trees are air, stars and sky. Trees are lungs, eyes and I.
Heavy grey clouds have finally passed. Spring is coming at last, at last. Blue sky full of wispy fluff Says to winter 'enough, enough'. Fluffy white clouds in sky of blue. This kind of day ... long overdue. Enough of winter, enough of cold. It's pristine beauty did quickly grow old. Spring, oh Spring, is on it's way As the fluffy clouds come out to play.
My Treasure Within Somewhat smooth, and sort of round, Lying here, on the ground, Baked by the unrelenting Sun, Ages ago, my life had begun, I have seen rivers come, and go, Seen glaciers, also, ebb and flow, No one has thought much of me, My unassuming exterior, not much to see, Like that frog that becomes a Prince, If someone opened me, I would convince, Him, or her, that they had found, The most AMAZING thing, lying on the ground! For, hidden in an inner recess, Is something that you would not guess, Were someone to cut me open, they would rave, That they had found a Crystal Cave! Lining the inside of me, The most glorious thing to see! Created over Geologic Time, On the inner reaches of my lime, There awaits a treasure true, Amethyst crystals, in a glorious shade of blue! So far, it appears my Fate, To merely lie here, perhaps too late, A Geode's life is not too exciting, most times, No killings, nor wars, nor other crimes, Nothing much really to do, But to hope someone stumbles upon you, Then, you can fulfill your highest, and best use, Then you are renowned for your ruse, For the Treasure you contain inside, For the wondrous sight that you hide! Through my uncounted years, I have shed oceans of imaginary tears, Untold numbers of people have passed me by, Never looking where I lie, Wait, what is this I see? Is someone walking up to me? He is stopping, now bending down, Looking at me, lying on the ground! If he picks me up he will feel, That I have a secret to reveal, He is reaching, now, toward me, Will I be opened for all the World to see?
You would assume I am thirsty in this dire heat, Or that my needles would cause others to quickly retreat, You would conclude that my flowers were only for show Or that if someone didn't water me I would never grow, But what you don't see in plain eye sight Is that I am flourishing with waters of integrity and might, Under these thorns you call choked up defenses Breeds the strength to survive all forms and pretenses, To you I require little maintenance… but I know better, I know how to absorb all I need in good and bad weather, For I was strategically placed in this atmosphere, All I need dwells in my structure enabling me to stay clear Of beasts that lurk when sandstorms arise, When mirages start to mesmerize, When signs and wonders appear in fallen skies, And soldiers forget to break ancient soul ties, I stand my post and flaunt my spikes, A cactus heart survives all flights. By: Sabina Nicole Written: In a Very dry Place Contest: Forgot
Raspberries are ripening in the shade of a white pine, Red monarda blooms in dappled light of a maple. I think of Earl Grey tea and Captain Picard, Time is our companion on this lazy hot day as always. Spires of lavender buds tower over the mulch. The pink roses are done blooming, Hips are maturing as they do with each year that passes. Sun tea sits in the grass, soon I'll pour it over ice and drink.
Upon my knees in desperation the parched sand trickles through my hand the steady drumbeat of Summer's song rolls like death across the land
I feel as though time is slipping away, And more is gone each passing day…
Claps of thunder, growling sighs Crackling light spears, ruptured skies Dark bruised smudges, jostling clouds Wanton weaving, angry shrouds. Water effusions, driving rain Flooded fields, congested drains Forcible winds, quaking leaves Bending branches, bowing trees. Birds are silent, shy dogs hide Children reach for sheltering sides Fish dive deeply, spiders curl Senses dizzied, fearful swirls. Clouds are broken, grinning sun Arching eyebrow, rainbow tongue Storm is humbled, joyous sounds Love runs rampart, peace abounds
Round heels of crumpets, aromatic lavender jam. Poached eggs in a skillet, succulent portions of ham. An awakening stretch had heralded a yawn mouthed long and loud. While rain fell down in splatters from the dark pewter clouds. Dated Macintosh slicker, hoary exhausted gum boots. Tenacious steps into nature in search of family and roots. The fallacies of the wind twists hair into long plaits. Across wide fields of enchantment new journeys await.
Burying dead bodies usually takes place In fancy holes dug on some land space. Most people dig those holes somewhere nice But sometimes they don't have a choice. Some people burn dead bodies to ashes And this really saves on available land spaces. Sometimes dead bodies are buried at sea And slowly sink into muck for eternity. Other fancy holes are dug large enough, For the removal of some valuable stuff. Sometimes these holes are dug somewhere nice And most times people don't have a choice. When all the valuable stuff's gone offshore The hole is back-filled and land space restored. Today we can dig holes in the seafloor Right through the eternal muck and more. Holes should be dug to bury the dead And to remove valuable stuff instead.
Mother Earth, please join our celebration As mankind revels in fruits of your creation But hide your eyes from oil spilled upon Gulf life And turn your head from endangered creatures in strife Sit upon barren land as forests are ravaged Take mercy on us, the destroyers so savage In polluted rivers your dead fish lay in decay This carelessness will spread if mankind has its way Precious minerals stripped from your dying soil No bars of gold will be produced from miners' toil Remember in prayer the Earth we once held dear Tell us please how to reverse this cycle of fear Reach out, sigh, as plant diseases proliferate Not God's handiwork, 'tis the devil incarnate * Parody for Dr. Ram's contest
< Horses and snowflakes Illuminating to it's tongue's pallet's plate Open carriage rides Falling flakes in the eyes City strewn lights Hoof's echoing through out the night Fleece blankets Cider drank it Horns blare People's stare New York's Central Park An home for many after dark Four miles of bridal paths Drawn coaches to bring you back So horses and snowflakes Fills this ones poet's pallet's plate Written By Katherine Stella My Theme Was Both Horses And Snowflakes This Is An Entry For Constance ~A Rambling Poet 's ~ Contest G.L. All
In the Silence of the morn my picture window does a splendid scene adorn. Reflections of red, yellow, and gold the suns jewel like glory does unfold. Admiring rays shine toward the west with accepting gratitude the trees do not protest. Rolling hills grab the early light, which allows fall's magnificence to rise and take flight. Feeling rich, as the richest King this wondrous display catapults my heart to sing. Richard J. Long, October 2009
Craziest thing I've ever done Making a video just for fun. Usually all you see is ink And mull around my words, I think. Now, I have this video. So, listen and watch. Then say, so, or, oh! It was a lot of fun (work) though! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5lfjFatgZU RAY
Strong wind howling from the east Invading collars and cuffs. Waves explode like roaring beasts Of white frothy foaming tufts Seagulls battle gusting drafts Eyes ever on the water. Warning code for small sea crafts Of twenty foot or shorter. Small boats being tossed like tops In danger of capsizing. Running lights like micro dots Strafe streaks on the horizon. Bows dip down into the waves As they disappear from sight Then reappear as if to bathe In the cold grey morning light
A two headed turtle in a bed blue Slept whole night through close to his brother too Contest: Two Timer's Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
This is a journey, a trip call it what you will It follows the footsteps of my ancestors, and allows my thoughts too spill Firstly let me take you back, to tell you so little of my past Indigenous I am, from the "Stolen Generations" I did not last This is why I must make this journey, to allow me to find the real me To retrace the few steps I made, to rediscover what my young eyes seen How ironic that the person I'll ride with, is the son of the then official Whose deliberation to round up us children, the scene, locale It's now the morn of our travel, where I look I find hard to see The peripheral of the distant horizon, is all that really captures me The town where I grew up so young, barely to the age of five Perth, now bustles like a termites nest, zig zagging in busily strive Into the bush we go, to a place where us youngsters so enjoyed Moore River Native Settlement, which soon became children void As I walk my arid lands, patterned in the heat of this day I recall with every step, where us Indigenous children played We could survive on the smallest of fruit, water we could easily find Even the son of the then official, said that we are a superior kind He marvelled when I spotted tracks, traces of where animals crossed Remembering back to when I was five years old, our lands always talked We opened up as we led our horses, introduced all those centuries ago They opened up my lands, rivers we walked, now the white man flows This is a journey I had to make, it's called, it's in my will No more "Stolen Generations" no more will my culture spill
Again a small poem guys dedicated to my Darling hubby.. wrote by Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare Loving You is Blissful - My Darling Hubby Twilighting glow of the sky.. Wanna fly so high.. Sparkling amidst the million stars.. chosen the crazy pal and so life is excellently par.. As like the blossom were kissed by soft rain.. Your arrival in life diminished all my pains.. God has entwined me..with my emarald diamonite gem.. Enlightening new vistas in life as like your next aim.. At an astounding pace time flew.. But When i didn't see you..I feel like..Life is been dew.. Your divine presence in life rejuvenates me.. Every tick of my heartbeat resonating wit your's or whatever it will be.. Your innumerable naughtiness made me silly.. But yep, your beautifying nature had an fragrance in life like lilly.. As like snow crested the nestled mountains.. You cuddled my persona..like a sip of fountains.. Being With you, Life is euphorically elated.. Full of high spirit and delighted.. Thanks for being accompanying me my theist.. Your admirer with lots n lots of Love: Madhavi. Suyog.Pagare
Early morning, city street, Glancing down around my feet, There, as if upon a trail, Sat a tiny little snail. How he got there, I don't know; Snails and cities just don't go. Still, somehow, he made his crawl Smack inside an urban sprawl. Though I thought to move him to A safer place to see him through, I opted not to interfere With fate, which must have brought him here. Either he'll survive or not; I believe he has a shot, Though New Yorkers, I'll admit, Don't like creatures slow as _ _ it! for Andrea's "Show Me the Funny - Part 2" Contest
Autumn I love you color and splendor Plump sweet grapes filling me with ardor A patchwork quilt......velvet soft leafs For you I wear my heart on my sleeve A wisp of cool breath blows upon my face A balmy soft touch of your calm and grace Brides last chance of an outdoor wedding Flowers bow heads giving up their bedding Photographs taken a memorable moment Dressed in an exquisite multi-color garment Written by: Joy Wellington October 14 2012 For Russell Sivel's contest - Up In The Autumn Air
Viewing this vista of extraordinary scene Scenic she's creative in historic darkened means Meaningful silhouettes, black squared, dark undulations Undulated to her visitors, their close clanned relations Relative they may be, but so different in their norm Normally they would be, differential in their clans Clannish their panorama, now dusk before their dawn Dawn is when there's life, a new day has spawned Spawning oranges and reds, the dusk now bows to the suns wooing Wooing this extraordinary scene, now my eyes are viewing <> Not for Nette's contest, I just loved the image, and it's theme <>
Frozen fingers reaching down Silvery tips pointed toward the ground No matter it long or short Breath of air determines its unjointed contort Grabbing the Sun's light of day Glowing and gleaming with each flickering ray More than five fingers on its icy hand The reach of each extended by cold wet sand Tapping sound of drip, drip, drip Wiggling goodbye, while releasing a tired grip By: Richard J. Long February 2014
Tides are rising, clock's are ticking Us humans in disgust in ending sickening Turmoil is endless these past recent weeks One can sense natures Armageddon, it's what we've reaped Forestation, deliberation, call it what you may She's had enough, no one will be around to say Many gathering clouds, so grey like never before Flat-lands of our counties, becoming one long shore In abhor I look, at the sadness of life's wildlife Struggling against the tides, drowning in mans strife The rural that was once, sadly is no longer there I close my eyes to vision, watery eyes can only stare Black tides are ever growing, encroaching over the lands We now reap what we have sown, and die by her crying glands *~* http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/natural-disasters.php
Humbled I am by all this glory that I see. Such gifts are wrought with every flower-every tree. Across the way those hills seclude so many creatures. Far as one can gaze such wealth of nature's features. Greenery and color shared create such bliss. Tapestry of peace and joy- nothing's amiss. Longing for the hills when I have gone away. Captured thus I never want again to stray.
They pollute our waters, the land, the air They pollute the planet without a care They kill our friends from down below As they swim up to say hello They build weapons to kill each other They don't respect each race or colour They try to hunt us in every way But they cannot find our hideaway We'll never surface because we fear We cannot trust the humans here by Ana Espinola Collins
In early dawn's crisp air, we journey forth with evanescent hope as we head north. We watch for what we seek. A *golden-eye glides overheard in blue of winter's sky. We bear the cold as we trudge through the snow. Sometimes we stop for rest; then on we go. We spy a stream that now has turned to ice, and there it stands in pristine paradise. . . . Perfection! It's exquisite, straight, and tall; without a doubt, the one that we will haul back home, where those we love wait eagerly To deck the lush green limbs of this year's tree! *golden-eye is a type of sea duck that can live in northern US and in Canada. For Francine Roberts' A Winter Couplet Poetry Contest My theme is #2: A Winter's Walk
There was a Goldfish who thought he was a shark. He kept biting the lily pad of a Monk Frog. Behave said the frog, for you are no shark. I can if I want, said the goldfish, if you are a Monk. The goldfish kept attacking the lily pad with ardor and spunk. He wouldn't be gainsaid on being a shark. As the Frog studied relentlessly to become what was wont. Neither one believing the other… could become what he did want. Now along came a snake to eat the monk frog on his ark. But to him… this lily pad was sacred, and he didn't want to disembark. So the goldfish attached a leaf to stand straight up on his back… And as he bit the snake's tail the frog hollered SHARK! Pandemonium ensued as the frightened snake did run off… Thinking it's better to be safe, than as some one else's dinner doffed. So some how, together they both became what they did want. Living happily ever after, as friends in that great lily pond. The moral my friend is you can be whatever you want. Still, don't stop as the path becomes hard, that you sought… For if a gold fish can become a shark… and a Frog a Monk… Then with work and friends made… you can become whatever you want.
Finishing up the last notes from my work day, I'm really late, Looking out my window, my drive tonight, I'm going to hate. I grab my briefcase and walk to my car, on a sheet of ice. Slipping and sliding left and right, this is not going to be nice. Takes twenty minutes to clear the snow from my car window, If I can hardly move, how will my car drive, I just don't know. Hitting the windshield, the snowflakes are big, puffy and white, They fly at you almost hypnotizing, you completely lose sight. Once you reach country roads the white knuckles truly begin, If you can keep between the hydro poles, you may just win. Hold on tight, keep your wheel straight, put your lights on low, Pray your defrost keeps working as you make through the snow. A blanket of whiteness envelopes you, no sounds or lights to see, Alone in this blizzard, you drive, terrifying, yet a strange tranquility. Once home, after a good night's sleep, you arise from bed at seven, Trees iced in froth, the ground painted white, looks a bit like heaven. Sun comes up, temperatures rise and once again green appears, Nature makes the world safe again, slowly melts away your fears. To think that I could have easily been killed driving home last night, You consider the beauty of country living and soon forget the fright. Written September 9, 2012 For Joy Wellington's contest "Weather Forecast"
The mountains arise all around Her skirts valleys trims that abound The court house stands antiquated For years law accommodated On square few stores in business No longer the attractiveness The beauty of the peach trees pink In bloom in the spring gone in a wink Packing sheds closed down different now Lifestyles different as fields once plow Nostalgia for days of the past Change is good but will it last In honor of: Michael J. Falotico Contest: "A Change of View" Since I have always lived in one place, I wrote about change....
Shake it, shake it! Feel the rhythm, don't quit ; Enjoy a warm coconut breeze, There is no way you can freeze; Visualize the ocean waves You can have what you crave; Dance all day, dance all night Keep your eyes shut tight; No no it's not gonna snow, We melt it with our inner glow
" The Rainbow and The Moon ... " (From The Solomon Studies Series # 7) (Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29) The Rainbow and The Moon Both Need The Sun To Shine The Rainbow and The Moon Both Are Very Beautiful Signs The Rainbow and The Moon Both Must Be Seen At Particular Times The Rainbow and The Moon Both - Spectacular, Above The Pines The Rainbow and The Moon Both, Have Inspired Many Poets' Rhymes The Rainbow and The Moon Both, Symbol-Gateways To GOD's Shrine Tho' One Is Circular and One - Curved Lines Both Are Geometric-Round or Crescent-Inclined Tho' One, Day-Dances With Eagles & One, Night Loons Tho' One Captures Mist and One Pulls Tides To Its Tune Both Have Lifted Seas - In A Sparkle-Drop Spoon (and Both Can Lift Man From Darkest Hour Moods) The Rainbow and The Moon Both Carry GOD's Loving Promise To Mankind The Rainbow and The Moon Both Are Waiting To Finally Greet The Blind The Rainbow and The Moon Both Are From A Sacred Source Divine The Rainbow and The Moon Both Reflect The Pure Glory of GOD's Great Mind O' How I Love Seeing Rainbows and The Moon Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/4/2014 by: MoonBee Canady
Dreams, all ride in a rainbows seam Angel's paint skies, with a kaleidoscopic theme Watch them flow, from the heavens to earth Feeding seeds of hope and restoring mirth Life, born or unborn, speak and proclaim that "painting the sky, will draw acclaim" Rain is the prism, used to separate light and make beauty visible, dispelling plight People are able to find peace on earth, just follow the rainbows to find it's re-birth Rainbow Fun~ Ridding Rainbows~ Anything Rainbow goes ~ for PD'c contest
THE BLUE MOUNDS* It started when she sat there At the age of five or six Wandered off in chase Of bugs who watched her from gray sticks-- Felt a thrumming in her veins That set her hair on fire stronger than the booming She imagined in god choir Suddenly aware of space But not of time passed by Looked up to blue rock haze Against a thunder sky And distant on the blue rock Bison herd was racing west Dust-framed in a golden haze She grabbed her hammered chest *Blue Mounds--now part of a park in SW Minnesota Lakota Sioux burial grounds, sacred site--a herd of bison roam here
At the edge of dawn, to climb the path, along the windswept hills The world lies blue, from a downy night, and views serene and still The world is hushed, nowhere to rush, at least that's how it seems I will walk along a crystal stream, as if it still my dream The arching sky, surrounds my eyes, a morning star that shines As sun comes up to tint the snow, with pink among the pines The birds and deer have reappeared, and all the things that creep Below the hills, a sparkling town, is soon aroused from sleep The world is changed from winter's blue to soft and ermine white A snowglobe world, is all aglow, of winter kissed delight My soul refreshed, with frosty breath, and I find my worries cease Contentment comes on silken wings, my world seems filled with peace _______________________________________________ For Juli Michelle's Contest: Winter Blue
~}{~ The summer night breeze As it whispers through the trees Tingling hot sun kissed skin Cooling the soul within.. The sky turns a dusky blue As darkness wraps round the sky Moon rays dance on crystal ponds Beams reflecting tender bonds.. A sun crowned horizon kisses goodbye the day Sending it lovingly on its way As night time arrives on gossamer wings A moonlit serenade begins.. ~}{~ 28/08/2010
Nasty old winter is getting me down I'm looking for summer all over town I lift up a blanket of snow off the ground Sadly there is no green grass to be found My very next stop I'll go down to the beach With waves and sand summer may be in reach The lake is solid like a piece of glass No sign of summer I'm freezing my ass Summer summer reveal yourself to me Sun warm my face place leaves on a tree Hey wait a minute is that a red Rose? I pick it up, place it under my nose I'm so sad to say, the rose isn't real You can imagine how sad I now feel My search is over I know when I'm licked As I head home I'm feeling real ticked I see a young woman walking my way Wearing a bikini on this cold day A glimpse of summer my heart starts to race I'm confused, yet there's a smile on my face Searching for Summer contest By Richard Lamoureux March 14, 2013
< I have dipped my pen in the sublime, it's my gift to you Now use it wisely and write about some captioned caught views thus that of an snow-capped mountain with an eagle that soars or white sandy beaches where ribbed tides rolls back to it's shores maybe stars and moon dance reflecting off stilled bay's port in ones head you must determine choice of words to now sort from beautiful to just pleasure does not hit it's mark beneath recant memory that caused the ignited spark observer of denial you can not destroy ones voice within pens stroke there comes a poet with another choice seize the day and come bow to the chosen word of the day dont let an overpowering object just get away Written By Katherine Stella 6/26/11 Entry For A Rambling Poet's Writing In The Sublime
The wind doth brace my body so, As I stand astride the moor. Invigorated by its feel, To the sky an eagle soars. For what splendor and sweet freedom, Will my soul, feel such happiness. Given all that's gone before me, So much sorrow and unrest. Oh to see the sun at daybreak, At dawn the rising mist. To walk barefoot on the dew tipped fronds, And to know that I am blessed. For upon my face the warming sun, That leaves a kiss with such caress. Flowers with scented blossoms lie, On their petals my head I rest © N windle 2012
How can I get a fire started? It's too cold, the sun has departed. Northern winds whipping by, Filling darkness in my sky. I cannot shake my weariness. It steals away my springtime bliss. Bitter cold, and to my bone Under gray skies I am all alone. 04-23-2014
From the west comes a gentle breeze Dancing the leaves in the stately trees The scent of pine comes in its wake Lovely perfume only nature makes Blowing now on the meadow lake Ruffling feathers on the resting drake Flowing hair sweeps across the face Moving the grass with a dancer's grace Invisible sprite, but its path we see A bit of magic this surely must be
When the snow begins to fall and its chilled outside Our spirits begin to fade like a misty tide It's hard to keep our head and chests up high We want to lay in beds and do naught but cry But we should remember what comes after the snow The sprouting hope of the rose petals show That happiness can be found inside a soul so cold One that has found that it feels way too old So smile today, and smile tomorrow On memories of spring, we borrow
Sea of sand, on this sun bleached land, painted desert's fight for life Mountain peaks, ten thousand creeks, the balance of bliss and strife Red dust swirls, yet splendor unfurls, covered by magnificent cloud canopy Cactus is king, in the struggle for living things, narrow, twisted trunk, tree Oasis and wasteland, more beast here than man, music is in the wind The miracle of a desert in bloom, infinite expanse of room, lovely friend Beauty to amaze, eerily echoing passageways, the eagle is flying high Rain is seldom seen, a phantom often mean, the edge of earth and sky Fire and ice temperature shifts, sheer edge of mountain cliffs, to survive Secrets written in the rocks, rebel breeze that often talks, a canyon alive A wretched place of solitude, creatures with attitude, hard rocky ground Dusty trials lead nowhere, purple shadows everywhere, treasure's found Lightning's rage, takes a center stage, see the tyranny of a relentless pour Canyon bath in nature's suds, single rose in the mud, life springs once more! *A kaleidoscope of views and impressions from the Grand Canyon For Linda's "Nature" Contest Date: 5:21-14
A beautifully hidden work of art. Absolutely stunning from the very start. Vivid colors of purples and pinks. Fill the setting skies as it sinks. Mountains surround the city's pride. Protecting it from the world outside. The mountains and skies are the words that tell the story. The building and cultures are the pictures that hold the glory. Listen close so you can hear the wind telling the tale. It will teach you beauty, please dont be stale. Close your mind and open your heart. And you'll love it from the start. By: Cherica Eckiwaudah
As his rider gives the judge a glance, He tosses his mane and shifts his stance; The winner he is, without a doubt, He trots in place and then moves out; Not quite believing what I saw, I watched in silence, struck in awe; Almost as if he wants to tease; He crosses over with seaming ease, His perfect cadence and fluid prance; I sat in wonder as I watched him dance. ~Write A Backwards Poem Contest~
Sparkling all across the wisps of morning dew. Weaver spin on till your masterpiece is through. Dancing in the sunlight's rays-your web of white. Tantalizing beauty there is quite a sight. Stem to stem eight legs move onward into day capturing each water drop and luring prey. Soldiering on you leave your intricate design splashed across the leaves like cotton on the vine. Many splendored you are feared by some it's true. Transfixed I am watching to see what you'll do! for contest"Along Came A Spider" June 1st,2013
fall time again, its here to savor crunch and crackle of its crispy flavor autumn flares its vibrant bright hues nature garners its resplendent dues boughs bent with luscious looms lavishing carpet of gorgeous gold garnishing dazzling as a diva rich-ripe in her prime My autumn day adorns seasons of all time! Yesha Shah 3/9/2012
My quiet place is when my son is at school and my husband is at work the house is so quiet at times I can't remember the joy and fun. I get mighty lonesome at times but I know that I will have Caleb home soon and Wayne sometimes gets to drop by and say hello. He comes and goes so fast I get to feeling like we don't connect with eachother very much. I get in my comfy chair and open the door and blinds to see the nature outside. Nature is my most written about subject especially the birds and flowers. The different colors in the sky and flowers are a great inspiration to me. I know others who can be in a room full of people and tune out life and keep on writing. That is not me. I need to be in a comfy envrionment. My home is a quiet lonesome Other dwellers roam free My home is lonely with just me Others don't care to be Informed of my heart and souls depth My home calls me to go Where One knows and is known truly Beyond the sky's rainbow For Sara Kendrick's contest My Quiet Place
Personally I don't like the way he gets up Every morn sqawking, strutting his stuff around, don't like, yup Ring leader in the morn with his self-centeredness His behavior exudes narcism and great abrasivesness His neck stretched, chest extended, muslces flexed ready This Rhode Island Red crows from dawn 'til sun up and steady Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper Contest: Personifying Science Written: 09-26-13 A form of Poulter's Measure Written in rhyming couplets
What makes me tick? You ask me the question on what makes me tick Well this I will answer, and answer it quick Flowers and trees, the birds and the beasts And all of the beauty on which my eyes feast. Rivers and lakes, and oceans as well And all of the dreams in which I do dwell Music and poetry, Astrology too And all of the wonderful things that I do. These things keep me breathing and loving my life And last but not least is my beautiful wife. 10 September 2013 @ 1353hrs.
A summer rain arrived, unwelcome, cold and unannounced, Spattering softly then louder, as if a hidden tiger had pounced. I stared out of the window pane as the world turned silver-black, With distorted reflections of lights from the thunder flash and crack. A face stares back from the window, captured in each rain bead, Like a fragmented, displaced reflection of a soul clinging to a need. They wriggle down the window pane, as if searching for a course, Like a hidden memory surfacing, loosening a mighty natural force. Each bead a broken part of me or perhaps a fragment of my soul, As it clings to the window pane, fighting and crashing as they roll. Some they merge together as lover warriors against the world, But they tumble fall to nothing as more raindrops are unfurled. They softly flow away together, their identities lost from view, Leaving the world so refreshed, fragrant as early morning dew An order and a reason, portrayed so assured and so intense, Rests behind its demeanour, its nature, is not an offence. What of the different parts of me that are lost upon the pane? They are washed away to nothingness and purified by the rain!
A little bit confused was beautiful Spring, She had to choose for life a bridegroom. Who will give her a wedding ring? Three men wanted to be her happy and bloom. March, April and May vied with each other. About their great love they quietly talked. April was for Spring like a brother, With March she just often liked to walk. Timid March gave her beautiful primroses, Out of snowdrops he made a wreath, He didn't want to know any losses, He promised her the whole world's wealth. Delicate and sweet was April. He gave her a necklace of brilliant drops. The life with him could be stable, - he said, She'd be rich and would get good crops. A wonderful May pleaded Spring: You are my love! Take my wedding ring! Be quick, Spring! Be my wife! We'd be happy together the whole life. And Spring trusted the handsome May. Without any delay she sewed the white dress, For the veil she took the apples blossoms. That was her best and the happiest day. The whole world was whirling in the dance. May was getting married with Spring! The Earth was full of love and romance, Happiness to all this marriage would bring. ©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine) PERSONIFICATION contest
If I could sell away some baggage Tears and fears would be first to list My hubbies lackadaisacal attitude My sore joints and perfectionist tendencies My son's messiness and lack of sage Clutter and papers need not exist Inheritance clutter has in'eptitude Weighing heavy on my thoughts For the contest by SKAT 9/6/12
Silhouetted against a rising full moon Stands a lone live oak in solitude A haven for homeless woodland creatures Graceful limbs mark its features Untouched as land was cleared for wood Its beauty left it where it stood "Come unto me all ye homeless and broken Herein find ye rest" soundlessly spoken Written by: Debra Squyres 5-4-2012
In the short race from the trees to the ground, the yellow leaves are winning, at least this round. The pine needles seem distracted, looking here and there, not concerned, playing and dancing in the air. The wind eggs them on, whistling a tune. Autumn's trees will be bare all too soon. Some of them are fast, some of them are slow as they tumble t'ward the ground like colourful snow. Red, yellow and green, dancing on a breeze, the race from tree to ground beckons all the leaves. Yellow leaves are winning, at least this round, in their short race, from the trees to the ground.
Communal spirits rise into the air Cautious of the white rabbits stare Circle is the frame of choice while laughter is the authentic voice Curtains of white move with flair taking on shapes an eagle, snake, or a bear Clamoring for the right place little ones realize a roasting pace Cooking white clouds to brown or black looking like a cumulonimbus stack Curious stories are told to one another unwinding witty tales to someone like your brother Crackling noises fill the dark air driving away thoughts of despair Contented spirits embrace the night glowing embers fade from sight By: Richard J. Long - September 2012
SUNSET BEDTIME The sunset kisses the ocean's fragrant lips of salt, Lapping 'neath the sky's purple veil and vault. In perfumed mellow waters, in their glory golden, Deep sighs the sun, great lazy yellow melon. Glowing, flowing his way to rest, down drawn To make love to the sleep-hazed horizon: Their golden bed where fused desires deep End in surging final flare-out - and then sleep. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Written 18 July 2012 by Sydney Peck Entered in Francine Roberts's Contest Top five Sunsets
< Goodnight moon Only God knows if I'll see you soon As I stand under this canopy of stars It looks as if you're riddled with scars From your illuminating harvest glows To those frosted faces from a winters toll You even play your peek a boo With clouds that shuffle by you Don't you know I love you so So please stay and don't you let go You're my guiding light My shining armor through-out the night The crickets are even playing our love song So let's dance all night long For I know the sun will be rising soon And we'll start hearing yodel calls from a loons tune Well goodnight moon You've slipped away all to soon It's been fun Dam ! now here comes the sun Entry For Deb Guzzi's Harvest Moon Contest G.L. All
A dripping, drizzling, falling drop, Which hits the ground with a bouncing plop. A rolling, flowing, surging force, Which carves the land and runs its course. A cooling, soothing, refreshing thing, Which calms the soul and makes it sing. A soaking, drenching, dousing substance, Which engulfs the world's continents. A sustaining, quenching, natural element, Which fosters life and makes it relevent. TLH © 2-14-2012
Heavenly necklace, let loose some pearly strands The raining beads fall pattering on my outstretched hands Rivulets flow in the criss cross grooves of my palms Vaulting destiny's hurdles, washing away all qualms Patting gently easing away forehead's worry furrows Pulling me to radiance from the deep dark burrows Shiny diamonds perform trapeze on the window bars Minuscule prisms breaking white light into myriad colors Dripping dropping below flowing through leaves first Eagerly awaiting sweltering earth quenching its thirst Every drop performing the worth of its attendance Soaking the air with its earthy misty fragrance Could be a soft drizzle or a heavy downpour be it may These falling drops brighten up a world that was grey!
Earth and environment preserved for us, all bountiful and all lush. Very pristine, pure and clean, Clear blue sky and lands jade green. Languid wings of breeze used to carry, Scents of flora and fauna fondly and airy. Sweet melodies of streams and brooks flowing, In the sky above, the rainbow, distinctly glowing. Lands laden with fruit bearing trees all around, Multi hued flowering plants growing wildly in the ground. But Greed in man to keep on plundering, Misguided enterprise in him keeps blundering. They call it modern technology, Sans care for mother earth, they surely owe ecology an apology. With the pollution that we mercilessly do, Will we be able to enjoy this in a year or two? Horrendous signs we see & hear, Blasphemous changes is near. Ice caps melting & dark winds blowing, Raindrops pelting & forests burning. Green lands shrinking, & wells drying, Erosion is increasing & ocean shores weeping & crying. Coal burning & ore reserves mining increasing, Gas basins exploding & oil reducing. Smog filled skies & expelled fumes, Oceans with films of crude, pesticide laden food to consume. Expanding concrete structures replacing torn down forests of trees, This is the environment that surrounds you and me Our world's face will keep changing, Nature's furies across continents rearranging. From impregnable depths to lofty mountain peaks, Nature in different form to mankind communicates and speaks. With fast paced & living large, Dwellers of planet earth forgot that it is mother earth is in charge. If we don't mend our ways and treat her with distinction, We surely will be on the super highway to hurried extinction… To begin with from this day, take a pledge to do and to all say Plant a tree or a sapling in your yard, Keep watering it don't worry about the soil being hard. Turn off the tap as you brush your teeth, And don't waste water when you soap your hands and feet. Avoid napkins of paper use the cloth one, Try it & remember we used to carry a kerchief and sure was fun…. Use fabric grocery bags, And reuse cloth for rags…. Recycle all paper products that you can, Try yourself, half laundry loads in the machine to ban. When not in the room turn off the light Use energy efficient bulbs for improved sight. Walk more and drive less, Stop spilling gasoline & reduce the mess…. be at home or in foreign lands, Remember the environment is always in your hands.
In the midst of the dewdrops that sparkle the morning the bluebird of happiness sang without warning. Basking in the sun of a new day's light then spreading it's wings for a first day flight. The sun grew so large in the painted sky while creatures stirred in the forest nearby. Frolicking in the shadows the animals play in search of new adventures that may come their way. They stop and they sniff as humans come near to their woodland home but they feel no fear. As the dewdrops fade into afternoon delight the evening comes a calling with a beautiful starlit night. The furry ones scurry towards peaceful repose. In the forest they'll sleep till the morning light glows. Peace and love flourish in this forest all day long. May your mind enjoy the beauty before it's all gone. 7-15-13 Thanks Deb... I enjoyed working on this with you as well...
A hummingbird hovers with sweet anticipation As the flower sways in rhythmic expectation
We sat there just groovin', our senses so keen Trippin' and giggling, taking in nature's scene We smirked as visitors drove up in blind haste "Take a picture! Let's go! No time left to waste!" We were smug, silly hippies, naive to the core So certain we had found the key to that door Those tourists were clueless, yet then so were we My bridge way to wisdom does not come toll-free I'll never fly to heaven on Cannabis weeds Through brambles and thorns my gutted path leads If I find Eden, I must first weed and plow Wish I could go back to Yellowstone now… ***Edited version of a previous post
Crimson fire in the sky, Across its face the swallows fly A beginning and an end, No shining star will it offend I dare not tear my eyes away For this brilliance cannot stay Perhaps in ancient times a man would cry Afraid his world must burn and die The sun is gone, its colors fade And night descends upon the glade....
Skies ablaze with auburn rays Horizon foretelling the dawn A turtle strays through a lily pad maze We're the first ones on the pond As we paddle along we're singin' a song For the signs are clear to read If nothin' goes wrong it won't be long The fish'll be startin' to feed We hear the sounds, they're splashin' around On water once still as glass And seven pounds are about to be found In the form of a large mouth bass We start to row fast, the buoys zip past We arrive at the secret spot Then at last the pinpoint cast The Lunker is soon to be caught 3/5/05
The airs crisp and invigorating, With every breath I take. For a brief moment out of many, I take the time to appreciate. As I stand before you oh mighty one, I look out across the land. For all about are true wonders, Created at your command. Above me I see the heavens, On a clear day, of cobalt blue. Emblazed by the golden sun, As it warmth brings life anew. The patchwork coloured countryside, Stretches out, far in front of me. And the meandering of a crystal chord, Flows timeless, but unstoppable. As it makes its way, To where mountains meet the sea.
Oh, I've dreamt of the crystalline morn where the tinkle of ice melts, as the day's born. In my sleep I've seen the lilac boughs dipped in ice like egg white upon each buds tip. Panes of glass with frost with doilies adorned each melt in the sun, their passing is mourned. As I rise, I see my dream's come to pass... I stare from beneath down out through the glass. Such is the magic of Winter's white days when all of nature is a frosted bright glaze.
When I was the tender age of seven I was to go on a week's vacation...I thought "heaven". My uncle had a '55 Buick in two tone green A vehicle in which I would always want to be seen. As we drove from the city that hot Saturday I watched the roadside as we went along the way. No tollways then, just the roads heading north It was an adventure all the way as we went forth. My Aunt kept my Uncle in the front seat on track My brother and I watched the green cornfields pass from the back. A long destination to the farm, you know I felt like we'd traveled for a week or so. But when we pulled into the dirt road alongside the farm All I could think about was its interesting charm. There was the White Cottage where we would sleep And the Old Red Barn, weathered and creaky...in need of upkeep. We weren't to play in it because of its danger But to a seven year old, that is no stranger. I went in when no one was around Saw the stalls, the loft, the ladder, and the straw on the ground. The big door creaked as I swung it open No one heard it...at least I was hopin'. The smell of that barn I will never forget With the straw and the fertilizer...like a musty ommlette. With a roof that had perches high up in the air And holes in the shingles through which you could stare. It was haven for us kids in the weeks to come As we played and explored and hid in it some. There were the railroad tracks that went past it in back We'd walk them to look for interesting stones to put in a sack. That barn was even the backdrop for my uncle's .22 He was aiming at the cans, but missed more than a few. I can still remember that musty old barn today Sometimes it comes to me on a wet summer day. For the smell, the sight, and the memories live Too many old barns gave what they could give. But you will still see a silo standing next to a barn in the field I wonder sometimes, how many bushels of corn it had to yield. For most of the barns are weathered with their red paint in fade Like some poor traveler, lost and waylaid. Yet, they all stand as proud as can be There to fill my childhood memory.
Autumns rich mellow flavoured air Unmasked, the trees are now bare. Seldom do we hear the birds sing When the Autumn leaves are falling. Smoke trails from the burning leaves Carried on the light cool breeze. The scent of spiced apple days In the suns golden haze. The Pine towering heavenly high Dropping fragrances on passers by. Smell the crisp refreshing air Wind is blowing everywhere. The leaves they scatter without sound Gently cascading to the ground.. Hazel Connelly 23/10/12 Up In The Autumn Air Russell Sivey's contest
AUTUMN COLORS Trees, and endless squadrons of their fellows, In full dress with their medals, reds and yellows: An army in bronze and topaz uniform, Ready and waiting for orders to fall in and conform; And in fall - with its rich golden leaf And needles polished - ready to guard its fief. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Written 15 August 2012 Entered in Russell Sivey's Contest Autumn, Fall Colors
I will enter the quiet wood, On the rustling leaves I will dance, I will watch the Godhood, I will prance to the autumn's romance. I will wear a colorful dress, I will mix up myself with the leaves, I will hear what wind says, I will feel the tender breeze. I will see a birch in gilding, A maple in its nice crimson, A spiders beautiful sewing Created with Gods benison. The Sun will play with the dewdrops, The leaves will dance rock and roll. Feeling desirable aromas of hops The autumn will be a droll. I will be fascinated by the autumn's beauty Where only peace and harmony are on duty. ©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine) For Russell Sivey contest "Up in the Autumn Air" 26/10/2012
The Blue Princess Holly blooms The Honeybees hum a tune As they drink its nectar sweet Springtime dividends a treat The Red Wasp visits too The nectar nourishes true A pod of Blackbirds fly by Like a school of fish in the sky____
Reporters waiting at the blocked off air- strip, to get photos of the boy wonder at the end of his trip. Around the world in his hot air balloon, from Anchorage to Cameroon. Picking up treasures from every land, grizzly bear claws, and feathered bands. The air ship lands while the crowd cheers, The door opens , and the boy pilot nears. "Will you make a statement?", they want to know, "What have you seen , and where did you go?" I travelled wherever the wind blew me to, met people , went places, that I never knew. So, I have many tales to tell , of the wonders I have seen, many stories to be written, And I am but fifteen.
Green the cover at the garden, leaves on a bowl for a stew, avocado swaying up on a tree, the voice of Wangari Maathai. water running down the stream, birds singing there melodious songs. cold porridge on summer, squishy cough drops, Grandma's heavy cassava soup. rolling cheeks due to joy, penetrating radiant rays of sun the atmosphere around the forest Green can cool your day.
Carpet of crisp dry leaves New colors nature conceives Misty ,hazy ,chilly autumn air Fall colors in full flair Trees seemingly on fire Nature seems stringing musical lyre Rustling bustling autumn wind All the foliage gradually thinned Winged leaves flying in the air Naked branches so bare Luring fall colours everywhere A colorful degenerating atmosphere
When we watch a patch of sunlight shedding, gold across the ground, is to know that nature's clock is ticking, making not a sound ----------------------------------------------------- In honor of Black Eyed Susan's Contest: Silence
You see a path, a forested trail- The ground of which, to you seemed stale- Covered by trees, dead by cold- Footsteps made, now are old- To thee it seems a dreary way- To me it seems as light as day- To know the secrets wherein are hidden- Safety, shelter I will be ridden- To find my path, not alone to take- Your love of me, then shall not fake- Since if it happens, my soul alone- Until another path I'm shown- I found my path, not alone to take- For your love of me, you did not fake-
Shaft of light-2 Out on the motorbike, on an urgent mission Starting the trip in sunshine with a clear vision In the season though of freewheeling fickle rains To ride it out in slovenly rain-swept terrain With light on retreat under sky's sooty cupola Dark, dripping, the day was a broken viola Despite the raincoat, shelter from showers sought A day of trials, the hapless traveler thought. Half way through, the murkiness mercifully broke With a shaft of light peeping through the sky's high smoke It came on as relief, like a pill that quells pain, And felt like a grandma's tale with a moral strain. 7th Feb 13 For Seren Robert's "Shaft of light" contest
The S.E.A.T. planes look like Vultures as they circle over head, Dropping tanks of slurry over glowing trees of red; An orange blaze crests the mountain top, then swallows the valley below; As the smoldering ash floats back to Earth, it almost looks like snow; The roar of the fire is deafening as it engulfs the forests decay, And the black smoke is so thick in the air, it takes our breath away; The heat blisters paint on the dozers, trying to cut a break, It burns with an unknown fury, til nothing is left in it's wake; The fire has a mind of it's own, carrying a heart full of wrath, Taking life after life, incinerating all in its path.
There's a bombastous zephyr blowing outside Swinging the street signs from side to side; Squall like whirlwinds are kicking up dust, I'm inhaling more dirt with every big gust; My eyelids are caked with soil and grime, Forcing my sideways time after time; When will this bombastous zephyr subside, Cause it's getting tougher with every stride; The wind is blowing my hair in my face, But I plunge on forward with awkward grace; The treetops are bending with ever big blast, As I wonder silently how long it can last; I feel like Dorothy in the tornado's clutch, This bombastous zephyr is becoming too much! ~For Paula Swanson's Contest~
RAINDROPS FALLING Raindrops falling, dancing in the wind Thunder, lightning, oh what a blend Raindrops are blessing from above Blessings for the crops, labor of love The rainbirds sing as they bath in bliss Given to all, sealed with a kiss The raindrops fill puddles for lots of fun The children come out to play one by one High in the sky a glimmer of hope Beautifull rainbow gives humankind a reason to cope It starts with one raindrop falling from the sky Just like all things in life, the rain passes by Written by: Debra Falgout Auguest 20, 2012 Contest by: Carol Brown
Sounds from my footsteps are muffled by the newly fallen snow The air is cold and all is hushed as I walk a path I know White flakes have fallen quickly throughout this winter's day And now there is a deep blanket over this silent wooded way Stately trees stand quietly watching as I walk this forest trail Snow has covered their northern sides like a heavy veil Fir trees bow their burdened branches as I pass slowly by And in these quiet moments I can almost hear them sigh The end of my trek draws closer and slowly the sun begins to sink The snow that once was bright white is now tinged by sunset pink Peace and beauty surround me here - it takes my breath away So I stand here silently and wish that I could stay Contest Name: A Winter Couplet Theme: a winter's walk
Summer arrives on the breath of spring Flowers fully bloom while robins sing June 16, 2013 Summer Couplet Contest
Ah! If I could walk once again with you through the hazy pine-scented forest and feel the trembling of your being as I your body with soft kisses caress...
why fart and waste when you have the option of burp and taste..... and then again...... why fart and smell.............. when you can burp taste and tell.......... and after all the farting if you need to poop when the session is on if you look down ,all you see is something like soup............ yet I go and sit on my throne, it has a plastic top but is made of marble stone...... I go there to excrete and stink.......... but on my throne for hours, i sit and think........... Doing nothing but scratch my balls, as i admire the soap stains on the walls................
The arrival of daybreak resembled the dusk Dark clouds covered the sky from east to west A rumble of thunder sliced through the air Accentuating the start of a stormy affair Then the rain came pouring down Making a loud pitter patter sound...... The downpour stopped after a while And we thought the sun would peek out and smile A songbird's melody was a welcome delight For a split second the outlook seemed bright Then in the heavens a wonderful sight Through the darkest of clouds, burst a shaft of light! 2-2-2013
I took a hike through mangroves today the salt laden air a sweet refrain A great heron swooped in to spy Then spread its impressive wings to fly A gentle breeze brushed through my hair as butterflies danced through balmy air Mild is the night, steamy the day Dawn is a warm kiss on the bay In awe, I photographed an osprey nest And stayed too long I must confess Caressed by the beauty all around The dance of land and sea life abound A delicate ecosystem, I marveled in wonder Mysteries of nature waiting to discover Mild is the night, steamy the day Dawn is a warm kiss on the bay First place in Any 2012 Poem
He's tender and caring in his own way, From moving cattle to bucking hay; He's stubborn but gentle and hard as nails, As he deals with all that his job entails; He may seem distant but he's filled with pride; From the cattle he tends to the horse that he rides; He's defender of the small and weak, And protector of the sick and meek; He keeps the code of the cowboy way, Standing steadfast from day to day; Watching over and protecting from harm, All of the beings that reside on his farm; He's sometimes reserved and far-away, And he never really has too much to say; Laugh lines cover his weathered face, Something even time can't erase; He is a cowboy, born and bred, From the boots on his feet to the hat on his head.
At the crack of dawn, silently slipping out of the silky night Angelic faces wearing dreamy smiles, my day's first sight The crowing rooster just rubbing his sleepy red eyes The sun, on the other side of east, snoring loud and nice As I saunter into kitchen- "Mum's cafe, twenty four hours open" To begin nourishing my motherly duty with tender devotion Goddess Venus in a clear sky inspiring me, shining bright Blessing me with her vision, may the rest of day be alright Slowly as wakefulness dawns upon God's creatures on Earth I pack delicious bounties cooked on my ever faithful hearth Peering out I feast my eyes on a pair of frolicking proud peacocks Doves preening by the window sill, I wake lil one with sweet talks The skies still a bit dark and the breeze blowing soft and cool I pack off my first born, bag n all, with a hug and a kiss to school Prayers in a distant temple, chants and the sonorous bell ringing Aroma of hot chocolate, ginger tea fills home, I work softly singing When the rising crimson sphere bursts the splendor of his glory Feeding breakfast to a robust toddler, each bite, a new story! He'd bounce off soon to his playing den, cuddle his teddy and lie Sipping some refreshing tea, my hand at writing poetry I shall try. Yesha Shah 8/8/2012 For: A Couplet morning contest by Francine Roberts
Autumn winds gently in, washing away Summer's sin... Autumn winds blow free, chasing colored leaves from every tree... Autumn winds chill, frosting through every valley and hill... Autumn winds passed, waiting for Winter's snowy blast. For "September - your choice" contest sponsored by Brian Strand.
I've learned about the Earth while I've watched it die, while getting facts and figures as to how and just why. And never understood why so many have lawns not noticing the animals and trees are gone. I'll vote for politicians if there's one I think is new, but truthfully I haven't given him a job to do. And now the food and clothing and a shelter built for two, is steak and suits and mansions filled with hummers for a coo. Our televisions tell us when something has gone wrong, and not of people doing things to help to keep us strong. I'm starting to get greener as my fears are getting worse. The shame is that my bravery is coming in tears first.
It is hard to foul air in a sleeping bear's lair. Volodymyr Knyr 2014
Jolly is the coldest season Loving Winter is no treason. Rain, sleet and snow A marvellous show. The Winter solstice Daylight of injustice. Man should wrap up in armour Often known as a willy warmer. Woman with thick tights pulled up their legs Keeping them like a well cooked bacon and eggs. Winter of discontent The homeless in torment. Not many insects found All buried underground. Flocks of sheep abiding The shepherds trembling. Hedgehogs in guileless sleep Foxes hungry for sheep. A triumphant winter adored Praise be the cold and bored. 01/04/2015
Could feel the smiling and risen sun all gleeful and gay, It had ushered in me a beam of energy earlier today. Could sense now at twilight it chuckle at the rising milky white moon, And softly in me restore its light to make me excite and swoon. The virgin cold watery sprays of the falling drops of rains, Slowly washes my worries off my face and down the drain. The fragrance of wet mud and lush sweet garden breeze, Blows into me, pure strength and happiness in me gradually increase. As I walk bare feet, wet grassy paths of my garden gently, My subdued muffed up feelings erupt over my heart's brim intently….. I let go of all feelings and experience inside me a sensation so very light, my vision clears and thoughts to me for my life's path ahead seem so very bright...
Here I am...just a tiny Krill Alive and well, swimming still. I wasn't eaten like my buddy Hank Taken by a Beluga, before he went off to the tank. My only safety has been in our school One whale, however, can instantly reduce that pool. I always shudder at the thought of being eaten alive When all I want to do is swim and survive. But we Krill are so special in the food chain you see I don't know if I will see my hopes, or if they will die with me. I'd like to turn the tables on those whales just once See how they'd like it, if upon them I'd pounce. Oh, to be able to eat just one of those creatures To digest it then burp, as I enjoyed all its features. They are the biggest things I have ever seen And that's o'er all the earth, wherever I've been. You wouldn't think that such a tiny creature like me Would have to ever be ready to swim in a hurry. But you know, when I really think about it I see Just what the attraction is in a creature like me. We are small and quick and abundantly abound I suppose we are tasty, or they wouldn't be around. We know that we are just simple little Krill What we don't know is...when is the time for us to be killed.
Stillness of the night,And the dullness in my sight, A cold dark cloudy winter night,The pathway lights shine on bright. Perched comfortably in the balcony of my farm house, The vista so great that the dormant poet in me arouse. The cool breeze envelops my surround, A few dew drops from the moistened leaves drips aground. The languid wing of air the fragrance of it carries, Of blossomed flowers, trees, plants and berries. Once again the freshness in my mind, Seems to be awakening from the blind. Welcome, come in the joys of happiness, Its now time to say to "good bye" to darkness
A shaft of light upon my neighbor's land is owned by him, but it is also mine To rise at dawn, and from a captured view He stakes his claim, not knowing I will too The sun will break, each morning, crimson bold And finally when his darkness comes so cold A shaft of light will land upon my back That tells me somewhere else the night is black I know tonight when my own world tucks in A shaft of light some place will rise again I share the sun, with those I'll never know Perhaps it lights a way for us to grow ---------------------------------------------------------- For Seren's : Shaft of Light Contest:
Tents of various colours in parade across the sands It's summer time in Brighton as the sun beams down so grand Families too many to mention, on blanketed abound Whilst laughter resonates from the children all around Even nature has her say as the waves caress the shore Just like yesterday, and so many years before Gliding terns and seagulls grace the thermal flow As they anticipate the pickings that present them down below Rock pools gather attraction, a learning call for the young Explained by thoughtful parents, of how we all began Sails of shapes and sizes appear against the blues Boats and ships aplenty in sailing tacking cruise My day now nears it's end, on this wonderful Brighton Beach So many joys surround me, I'm so thankful their in my reach
I awaken to the lovely snorts of my sweet English bulldog, Frankie sits up in my bed, legs out, looks sort of like a frog. Toddling down the stairs assessing the light from the window, We know whether the trip outside will be short or rather slow. Terrified of thunderstorms, she'll do her job with no delay, But she'll wander and sniff, taking her time on a sunny day. While Frankie smells the grass and deposits her little gift, I make a tea and look out over the river, it gives me a lift. Blue Herron feeding and carp jump, the temperatures scorch, Cardinals, Bluejays and yellow Finch fill the trees by the porch. You breath in the fresh air and appreciate the nature present, Peaceful and filled with hope, its a typical morning, no big event. I refill the bird feeders to keep my feathered friends coming back, Then Frankie and I go inside, mornings we've perfected the knack. Written August 9, 2012 By Lee Ramage For Francine Robert's contest "A couplet- morning"
Love and excellence wrapped up in one Amazingly beautiful from the day you begun Mother Nature was your name for your nurturing soul From the breathtaking sky to deep in a hole A tree and a plant is all thanks to a seed You provide us with all that we need You are our mother, we are your child Your tender heart with gifts so mild It quenches my thirst and sooths my hunger I will die someday, but I'll love you forever Oh how I adore your flowers so bright And your trees that grow very tall with all their might You're fruits that give juices, your vegetables too The water you give so I can get through You gave us four seasons, which are very great A masterpiece that we all should appreciate Your harsh gleaming sun your nice gentle rain Mother Nature you're too good to ever be plain
Looking at the horizon Sky turned into crimson Feeling of great happiness Winds blows with sweet caress Amazing God's creation To the nature's temptation Pouring with fantastic view Birds flying with lovely show Sun may set for a while But my lips will smile Beautiful night to hail With crimson sky I will sail May 18, 2013 For S.K.A.T's "Crimson Sky" Contest 6TH PLACE WINNER
I'm leaving town on a backwood's quest in this world even lions.. need their rest Thoughts of this solo journey make me thrill peaceful solitude for me is such a big deal God knows in His Kingdom I work and invest there's not another man that feels more blessed God's chosen angels sometime need to heal escape life's busy rush and get away to be still Here, out in nature, is how healing is dressed The lion regains his roar.. oh I'm so impressed Angels regain their wings nature's curative pill out here you touch heaven, you see and feel Date: 6-15-14
Sunlight bursts with softness in the summer Rays shine, basting all with something warmer Contest: LOVIN' SUMMER: A Summer Couplet Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich 6/11/2013
What I saw was starting of the sun Which had hardly just begun And then I finally have to admit Always so enjoyed the site of it. To me, appeared so very ravishing As sun came up and started dashing All along what is a beautiful shore I will love and cherish forevermore. Was brisk and were birds with beaks Made screeching sounds and some squeaks Loudly while without any fear or care And at me seemed to sit and stare. There is much about beach, birds and sun That to me so often seem to stun And if there is anything better yet Its webs when wet and sun which will set.
The mysterious times and seasons The changing light is this the reason? A harvest moon giving light for work to be done White light the usual reflection of the night sun Flowing light from orange's to red's some words disappear when moonlit read Gathering up all red's is the harvest light Even the rose looks grey and dead by night Stranger still is the mysterious hue Where does it come from the Blue? * * Note, Strange Moonlight- NASA science
The wind tears through the barren trees An onslaught now of winter's freeze To shake the house in dead of night As if for sleep there was no right The people lie in bed awake Wishing they'd had a better fate Thinking back not long ago When daytime came but not with snow The days were warm and worry free Not filled with cold nor misery But now the time has come at last To taste the fury of winter's blast But inside now the house still glows And eases the bite of winter's blow A refuge now a place to stay Through the worst of any day
I see beyond this blue sky there is another sky to fly. A distant island deep lush green centuries ago there I had been. Veil of mist covering that island history not unearthed lost under sand. Centuries ago as a bird on its flight I was there under the soft sunlight. Looking for a nest hidden among trees I had covered so many raging seas. But never could I find that nest to sit on it,take a nap and rest. Still today while flying in this sky I know always there is another sky to fly. ============000============
A sophisticated strut quite arrogant in her theatrical play on the move creeping silent nights, lounging in bliss throughout the day A king of her domain strength and pose a simple gift of prestige very few shall ever touch, no other shall come close to her league With white boots in the moon light slinky and smooth a true heart of a gangster with something to prove A beast of an arrogant notion, a lioness in the midst of the hunt searching for her prey my clever satin love cunning and pure robed in a coat of armor with accents of grey A sophisticated strut quite arrogant in her theatrical play on the move creeping silent nights, lounging in bliss throughout the day Written By Rick Parise
Go! Go to sleep!" Night said "Where? Where?" I whispered back Sleep - Where can this famed land be? Where one must close their eyes in order to see! And must I go there at nine o'clock? How to get there? Will I walk? Will my friends be there as well? Or should I bid them all farewell? And Night was silent for a while Til she answered with a knowing smile Sleep is the land where your dreams dwell More than that I can't foretell. But perhaps it's the home of fairies Perhaps it's full of tales and stories Miracles are quite common there You could meet Hope, or else Despair And then Night said beware; Beware the place called Nightmare The land of banshees, dwarves and dragons The home of elves, griffins and kraken. And shuddering I closed my eyes For there the land of sleep lies And Night continued its lullaby Until the sun rose in the sky.
A k
When harsh winds strip the trees of leaves, nesting creatures shiver and grieve. *For Brian's two-line contest
Given off from the light of the moon- Sparkling stars each one falls to soon- The night duration filled with light- See the stars, the eternal sight- Looks above the darkened trees- From to their homes the stars now flees- You see the colors, vast open space- You may see then a glorious race-
Early one morning my Hubby was sleepily shuffling around and about. Dawn was almost breaking and we were becoming late no doubt. Toiletries were a waiting, as he shuffled near the morning throne. Opening the lid, you'll never guess what exited as a rocket blown. EEEWWW …Poor little thing… Oh Who, you will never guess… Out popped a little tree frog jumping at mach 2 in his quest… Yes, he was wet and doing his very best as he stuck to the vanity. For who can say how long he'd been trapped in there, you see? It puzzled me to wonder… How he'd got to the second floor? Poor little guy… I doubt he could have withstood very much more. Now here we were to scare him… Yes, another time, I confide… We had to get him past 3 dogs awaiting for food and to go outside. It wouldn't have been so bad if 3 squirrels weren't watching from the tree. None might have been so eager, if they'd known he came from our potty. My jammied hubby ran for the mulch pile where sticks and leaves abound… As I entertained the squirrels and doggies with tempting morsels all around. Now I can't say it was traumatic to save a little wayward froggy… But I won't be opening that lid without a light, especially, if I am groggy. And I'll move back out of range as I lift the lid… I thank you all the same. And next time I won't forget to clean the toilet in a timely way, to my shame. And I won't ask my hubby to wash his hands 10 times daily… come next May. Now I know you may not believe me… but I'll take an oath on this… I say.
Ivory contours of nature's lure Satin sunrise of passion pure Lingering lovers tasting light Auburn hair of swirled night Naked whispers' sultry sheer Turgid thoughts nestled near Pleasure painting autumn's rust Fingers probing lingering lust
Nature calls and I don't mean coyotes Got a panicky feeling down to my toe-sies Till the next rest stop to hold it I'll try Got everything crossed including my eyes Don't ask me questions, can't answer right now Really must concentrate, there's sweat on my brow Please dear wifey can you drive a little faster Don't mean to bug you but it'll avoid a disaster Stop! Stop! There's construction up ahead Maybe they'll allow me to use their shed Look at those guys they're laughing at me Can no longer wait, going behind this tree Ahhhhh! Finally at last, I'm at heaven's door Next time I'll make sure I go pee-pee before ©Jack Ellison 2012
Crickets chirping in the night While fireflies emit a beautiful light
~My Morning~ The moon is going to bed now, I watch it slide away The sky a beautiful shade or orange getting ready for the new day. The pigeons start cooing taking turns in the eaves The dawn chorus is starting, birds waking in the trees. Morning is here a mist hangs low, the air is feeling damp I turn, its time to rise once more, I switch out the bedside lamp. I return to our bed to snuggle hubby, before works calls him for the day "Did you have a good night?" he asks knowing the answer will be "nay." Three cups of coffee later the first in bed with my man It's time to tackle the day; and get on as best one can. To waken and see another glorious night give birth to a new day But I would love to miss just one and sleep through one dawn is what I pray. © ~GG~ 6/08/2012
Drops of sweat slip from my furrowed brow Eyes squint, select a number and let fly now Miss again, a millimetre is a mile once more Aimed for triple twenty, only got double four The walk of shame, my oh so familiar friend Silence broken, on alcohol I forever depend The steel point of eyes bore into my neck My opponent leaves me a juddering wreck I lose the match; the wife won't give me a kiss I wish I could have been anything else than this...
The stream meanders down the rocks where I Look upwards and hope that surely the sky Creates the shade for the water to view Along the sides of the bank is more blue Where the center to the stream turns all white And frothy where the stone juts out despite Finally the stream leads to a grand pool Where fish reside, I act not like a fool By the algae gets eaten from below The sides of gorgeous rocks that we don't know Where the life comes from all real compassion Great sign of a foreign crafted passion Heart of gold, the middle of the forest Is surely this scene of prime non-disgust Where this signature warm place pleads to me Of coming power unlike any plea Russell Sivey Contest: Let's be Open Sponsor: SuZ - D 6/21/2013
It's hard to express with only ten lines The wondrous beauty of the porcupine He doesn't move fast in fact he's quite slow With relaxed motion he goes where he goes His body coverd with rows of sharp things He doesn't have the advantage of wings Many stupid dogs have tried to attack With quills in their nose they never come back Cute little critters small and very chic They may look harmless but they are not weak Heather Ober's Ten Line Contest
When we awake in the morning we continue the gift We are given the chance to live and uplift For we are the chosen to grace this fine orb And whilst we are here it's our learning absorb Many hands will release as they have grasped It's holding these grasps that are our life's tasks As we cup our tomorrows by step we will learn The fortunate will prosper to adult from bairn All our today's we will hold in our hands It's out there somewhere, awaiting our plans
A sea gull flew over the ocean admiring his reflection every day. Passing over the shore, he saw penguins at work and careful play. What an ugly bird they are he suddenly proclaimed. They can't fly and still they strut… know they no shame! One day the gull was swooping down angling for a fish… When suddenly an orca whale knocked him in the briny brink. Snapping and churning the orca would soon have his way. The gull was surely lost, if he could not gain the air to stay. Moments before the whale pod arrived the penguins chose to assist. They chose to distract the whale, giving the gull a chance to resist. The orca didn't care which meal he had as long as there was one… He finally beached himself upon the shore, and still he hadn't won. At that point the gull realized, the penguins were really seriously cool. They could certainly fly in the water, if maybe not the air to rule. Now friends for life… he would scout for them safe passage to their fish. Indeed, the gull flew away that day a little wiser, knowing he'd been remiss. Everyone in life is different. He surmised… It's not a choice they've made. But now he knows each demands respect… in their own separate way.
The mind is bound to thoughts, And the heart shackle to emotions. We're chained to multi-moods Even linked to seductive sensations.
Copyright © 2014 12.28,2014 Beaming into our eyes a beautiful sunrise. But birds still sing and humans cling. Clinging to hope still trying to cope. Cope with what was and is a sunrise to birds still a thrill. That beautiful sunrise fading from our eyes. by: lp//0830hrs Easter Standard Time
Cool breeze blowing as the hawk hovers around, Scared chicks scatter to hide,but no mother on ground. CONTEST:"A summer Couplet" sponsored by Andrea Dietrich
The branches of the whispering trees are woven with the sky. They're forming lacy patterns as a tear falls from my eye. So awestruck from the wonderment of moonlight-driven madness. Now sparkling stardust blankets me and hinders all my sadness. Warmed by the twinkling lights on high and drifting in the night. I feel the dreams of yesteryear that brought me to this light. The angels dance before me now well-cloaked in happy spirit. A silence falls upon the earth but I no longer hear it. As stars piece through the dark facade my feet begin to slide. Across the heaven scented sky the moon begins to glide. Dawn awakes,the stars slip down then slowly fade away. Before they go they wink at me thus I begin my day. written by Deb Wilson December 26th, 2012 for "Blanket of Stardust "contest
As I look up into the heavy laden, pink night sky I can almost smell snow, as my Nan would say in years gone by. The sky is heavy I am sure it will give its all I look up, 'Hey Nan, can you see me?' I cautiously call.' I can feel her around me her warm breath on my cheek It warms me to the heart as I eagerly seek. She was right! I did smell the first winter's snowfall The flakes start to spiral down, majestically, covering all. They settle on my eyes my cheeks and my lips, Dancing and swirling - each as unique as our fingertips. They land so soft, no noise do they make silence is all around. I stand in wonder at the beauty, the flakes merge and cover the ground. A Winter Couplet First Snowfall.
A watchful kind of morning this The sky a billowing pinkish bliss In stark relief scattered oaks stand As sentinels for the waking land Soon the pink has faded away To white pillowing clouds at play The wind has started to gently blow Stirring where the golden grasses grow Time my child to wend our way Homeward where our hearts do stay I think the afternoon brings rain Our winter song's first refrain...
Enter the garden, stop by the gate. Listen, as a bluebird calls his mate. Breathe in the potpourri of scent. Enjoy, this nature walk event. See the butterfly as he flies by, making its descent, from on high. Tissue wings of spotted amber lace, gliding with deliberate grace. A perfect rose, wrapped up tight, spreading open, to your delight. Awakening from the night gloom, bursting open, see it bloom. Beyond lays the forest, oh so dense. Shroud in mystery, a hint of suspense Walk the carpet of dampened moss, sprinkled with a dewy gloss. Blankets of foliage form a cocoon, hiding the sunlight of high noon So many sounds, a rhythmic chorus. Thirsty earth, drinking, forever porus. Ahead, a fallen tree in the path, victim of a thunderstorm wrath Finally the trees give way, bathed I am in the light of day. Hark, I hear, the distant roar welcoming in tranqillity, the seashore. Dunes of sand, with pearly beach. Lapping waves, within my reach. Open splendor, in shades of blue, hides, the depth of the ocean spilling in tides Beautiful, alive, magestic to behold becomes a sepulcher, icy and cold. The sun so bright, takes a rest. Sinking, ever so slowly, in the west. Sounds of nature follow the flight, across the horizon, into the night. My Theme was: Listening to Nature
Sitting on the couches ; in the dark shadows. Listening to the nights electrifying arc, light up the heavens. Winds,rustling song; blows through the leaves. Frogs quiet anticipation; the impending precpitation. The inevitable dance of nature ,that follows.
Summer was here I enjoyed it not Heat and humidity did not hit the spot Spring now a different thing_in spring_love Slightly warm days flashing of color, Dove Blooms from bulbs_so many shades of green Upon the trees_renewal of all seen Fall is almost here banishing summer Shorter days_cooler nights_welcome color When winter comes blowing fall asunder Barren trees_cold days even nights colder Then the memory of the flavored kiss Rose flavored kiss under the rose trellis
God is blessing me again with precious little drops of rain. He's taken on those watering chores that had been keeping me outdoors. Now I have time to take my pen and ink some poetry again. I'll write until the sun comes out and puts those rain clouds all to rout. In spring I got a little weary and grumbled that the days were dreary. I pleaded for the rain to stop. A farmer must put in his crop. The summer brought a bit of drought and raindrops I have done without. Until today with welcomed rain God's blessing's falling down again.
Blood mountains divided, staring back quartz veins. Decending and rising, as footings lay claims. Hopping and leaping through scents of black earth. Surrounded by moss and love what it's worth. Climbing the hill will pull at your muscles. while healing your heart; tomorrow come tussles. Seeing's forever and waiting not still. Love of destruction; you rise till you feel. Sniffing the wind that smells of the trees while Winding you up on two buckled knees. Then resting your fluids on top of your tongue, Sees love far from home or a rule of thumb. Now View the horizon on top of the mountain Where words are in silence and chest like a fountain. Relax and start humming and start your way down. Returning you home and turn in your crown.
" The Honeybee and The Ant ... " (From The Solomon Studies Series # 8) (Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29 / Job 35: 11) Go To The Ant O' Lazy Ones and To The Honeybee Busy - Under The Sun ... ------- ------- ------- ------- The Honeybee and The Ant Both Are Hard Workers Who Get The Job Done The Honeybee and The Ant Both Live In Colonies, As A Family of One The Honeybee and The Ant Both Store & Stock A Surplus Food Sum The Honeybee and The Ant Both Increase Labor For Needed Income The Honeybee and The Ant Both Send Out Scouts - Vanguard & Beyond The Honeybee and The Ant Both Have Antennas That Locate & Summon The Honeybee and The Ant Both Obey Their Own Queen Mother's Tongue The Honeybee and The Ant Both Observe The Seasons & Time's March Drums The Honeybee and The Ant Both Have Warriors That Have Protected & Stung The Honeybee and The Ant Both Are Ready To Sacrifice For The Colony's Young The Honeybee and The Ant Both Have Crossed Our Paths & Ventured Among The Honeybee and The Ant Both Gather In Numbers - That Make Counting Numb Tho' One Can Fly & One's Little Feet Run Tho' One's Home Is Below Land & One's High Strung One's In A Cozy Nest & One's In A Honeycomb One - We Kiss Their Lip's Spit & One - Eats Our Crumbs One Is Silent In Its Way & One Can Actually Hum One Pollinates Pretty Flowers & One Joins Picnic's Fun The Honeybee and The Ant Both Live For Each Day & Prepare For What's To Come The Honeybee and The Ant GOD Made Them Small - But Their Instincts Carry A Ton The HoneyBee and The Ant Both In Methods & Ethics: Can Teach Us Some For Even The Honeybees and The Ants Copy Ways of The Creator & His Masterworker-Son (Prov. 8: 30, 31) O' GOD Bless The Honeybees and The Ants Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/8/2014 by: MoonBee Canady
The iridescent raven perched upon pilings By just one lake in Friesland's beautiful wetland outings His golden beak and orange legs with claws set off Against black feathers that glisten and are a rain runoff Carefully he watches the Edelhert fawn play At the edge of the lake, close to woods, where he lives all day He had seen the das at dusk as he watched them all His duty as the lookout to warn them against harm's fall Against the vas that sly thief, who comes in the night When all sleep, even for the watchman death could be his plight Some Of The Wildlife In The Netherlands Edelhert:Red Deer Das:Badger Vas:Fox Sponsor: Elly Wouterse Contest: Your Ode To "My"Netherlands And/Or "My Friesland" Written: April 22, 2014
No man's obstruction in the way, God's grand finale of the day On gigantic canvas of the sky He hangs his painting broad and high. The center a hot orange or red, More subtle as the colors spread In entrancing, rosy streaks As from His brush new beauty leaks. Each time it is a brand new thrill When I watch vibrant colors spill In free abandon in the west. God saves the last of day for best. Written July 20, 2012
A darkening scene, backlit with a glow. The fading horizon, quick-melting so slow. Gut twisting clouds that circle the sky, Entrance and amaze with power inside. Wrath up above, yet calm down below. Encasing the sight, a bomb set to blow. Watching intently, inspiring strikes'. Furious lightning - a pillow of spikes Bellowing booms - the natural bass. Thunder consumes with slow-rolling grace. Funneling storms rip trees from their roots. Wind swirling madness - a project of Zeus. Heavenly hell- the beautiful pains. Tornados foretell, disastrous plains. - Yours Truly
"Whose woods these are I think I know" I'll walk awhile in the light snow Maybe I'll see a Christmas tree Wild Holly berries_just sightsee These wood end at beautiful quay Ocean's song lures to be carefree The quay is long solidly built_ stores And shopes with goods along these shores I'll walk this way though circle back Through the woods by the hermit's shack A nice long trek through winter's woods I'm glad I went I wish you could.... First line a direct quote from Robert Frost"s poem "Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening" #2..A Winter's Walk Sponsor: Francine Roberts Contest: Winter Couplet Click on "About This Poem"
For several weeks now, I have been watching A strong little bird through my window. She appeared one day on the ledge as I looked out, And I was touched, I felt some kind of connection.. At first, this bird was shy, like all birds she would fly, At the slightest sign of danger, so I tried to keep still. But each day she came back, and we both grew more trusting, And started to break through our webs of apprehension. With time, her visits were more frequent and relaxed, And I was always thinking about how I could support her. Some days were sunny, others were cold and snowy, But she was fearless and always shared those moments with me. I think we both usually spend most of our time alone, And so our little bond has grown into something very special. Yesterday, she came very close and I almost could touch her, I could feel how she wanted to be comforted by my hand. I was so excited, waves of joy surged up inside me, And all at once the tears started to flow down my face. And now it's a new day and I am waiting with renewed feelings, For the happiness of this relationship with my strong little bird.
Falling In Love In Autumn (Couplets) Autumn Love is mature and warm Surviving Spring and Summer's Storms First love blooms in Spring's first kiss Young hearts lost in natures bliss The Bird of Youth flies high and strong Spring is when we hear his song Summer sun brings reality And no assurance of constancy The Rose is Queen in Summer's Sun But falls to earth when season's done Winter is lonely, dark and cold Without Autumns love, as we grow old. Copyright© 2011 Beatrice Boyle, (All rights reserved) For Michael Faolotico's Contest – Falling In Love In Autumn
Snowflakes dancing with the wildest wind, Those to enhance footprints destined. The Barren moor top in virgin shroud, Mingles and jostles amid darkest cloud. Snow on 'Daughton Heights' Reflecting, Gleaming dreaming retrospecting. Upon one's journey through drifts bound, The first imprints honest and profound. A Whiter shade of pale exposed, Blanket mist, the sun indisposed. The Crocus the Snowdrop quivers, Above ground another dawn shivers. A Winter Walk For Francine Robert's contest.
White topped waves in the fading light Like magic carpets taking flight Draw ceaseless lines across the sea Incessant soothing harmony. The sky is flecked with dark grey clouds Overbearing ominous shrouds Now all that's left are specks of white As the day succumbs to the last light.
I pulled out the couch and wrenched my back; the dust bunnies gave me a heart attack. A clan of arachnids under my sink spin a web big as a skating rink. I bend to take a peek under the bed; a thick sheet of dustiness fills me with dread. Grandaddy Longlegs travels the floor to build his cobweb home near the door. When I open the windows to let in fresh air A dustball tornado blows everywhere. Think I'll go for a walk to adjust and try to ignore all the cobwebs and dust. written March 21st, 2012 Theme is Cobwebs and Dust
I saw a rainbow in the sky I watched the birds take wing and fly The trees and grass were different shades of green Such a wonderful sight I've never seen What a glorious display for me to see What God has created for you and me
The very first blossom of spring Is an early gift that summer will bring The very first shower that falls Is an answer to a parched earth's calls The very first castles of cumulus high Cruises the sea of a blue desert sky The very first swallow that sews tattered cloud Is met by a buffet of a flying ant crowd The very first day that I looked upon you I heard Cupid's chuckle as my heart was pierced through The very first kiss that I stole full of doubt Was answered by rain from your love's soft rich cloud The very first kiss held the promise of spring A promise of summer that your love would bring
The last leaf's falling from the tree Farewell to autumn! Snowflakes start their waltzing spree To better future blossom. Your hair darling turned to gray As well as mine. Our years together – a safety bay, They are like aged wine. More often I would love to hug, To feel your warm embrace, Near the fireplace to snug, To kiss your lovely face. I'd like to cuddle up to you And to escape the loneliness. In spite of time and old view Remain with lasting beautiness. And let the wind rage outdoor, It won't change our feelings. I want to love you more and more, Up to the end of our livings. ©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
I 've had the strange sensation, thoughts swirling in my head, Like "Where do fireflies go at dawn?", "Where do they go to bed?" "What do owls dream about," ,"while sleeping in their tree?" "Do they dream about their night- flights, ", and where the mice might be?" "What fancies do the small bats see, " "what memories do they keep?" "I'd like to listen to their thoughts," "when they are fast asleep. " Where might we all travel? Which places would we be? If we could know the night -one's thoughts, while dreaming in the tree.
The bird flew high into the sky Looking down onto the Earth saying "bye!"
You may like Spring when flowers smell sweet Or going to the beach in the Summer heat You may like Winter when snowflakes fall But I like Harvest Time best of all I like picking apples and baking pies And carving Jack-O-Lanterns with glowing eyes I like the air of a cool crisp morning When Jack Frost has come without warning I like it when leaves turn yellow and red That's when a blanket feels good on my bed I like sitting with family and friends Watching the sunset at days end Then dressing up for the Harvest Ball Yes, my favorite season is the Fall
FIRST SUNBEAM Ray of clear sun shows Across the heaps of snows The whiteness's rival, Announcing the soon arrival Of a host of its fellows - Welcome yellows, Not yet melting - Calling distantly to spring. A simple beam of light Warning the winter's white: Our time is now, brother - You must move over for another ……………………………………………………………… Note: Canadian winters can be long and severe, and the first hint of an ending is when the sun breaks through, even though it is still freezing weather. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . Entered in Poet ~ Destroyer's Contest "Any Poem in which did not place in a contest. (second chance contest)"
Animals scurry on every branch each day. Preparing for the next seasons display,
Narcissus (Daffodils) Narcissus has twelve different divisions All as beautiful as one envisions From trumpet small-cupped to Jonquilla Split Corona and the fragrant many cupped Tazetta With trumpets of yellow, coronas of pink and orange or red Even the pretty Triandus with its nodding head Some have fragrance some have none All displaying beauty trying not to be out done Narcissus the correct terminoligy for Daffodils For Francines' Daffodils or ***** Willows contest Feb 2012
What I Would Like to Forget The stench of me was putrid and gagging For the black white varmint had made its marking As I realized the volatile sensations erupting with in Stupid I was having spooked the skunk at my garbage can Odor no other equates to such pungency and frustration For throughout my taste buds its musk engulfed my aggravation Having permeated seven layers saturated deep- I did scrub My bath I did linger five days in the tub Damn the experience which I would like to forget I've learned at night to stay put in front of my TV set
If we close our eyes, can we look back to the start When the Universe began, when science played it's part Particle clouds so massive, so immense It's us, look around, learn it makes sense Drifting microbes, bacteria of sorts For millions of years mingled into life shaped contorts It has taken eons of time as life became known Where human words like Mother Nature, having claimed life's throne For in her sphere, blossomed riches of note From Dinosaurs to Zebra's, it's her right to gloat But what she has given is a chance to let live On this planet of beauty that we continue to sieve If we close our eyes, and we look back to the start We should be so very fortunate, we were invited to take part http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/space-3.php
Introduction: Sometimes your life sinks down a little, And when it does try and fight for Islam and have faith in Allah, ask for His divine guidance, believe and respect everyone, don't hold any grudge against someone, forgive them and surrender completely to Allah And believe in His graceful light. Don't fall apart, When light fades away Look deep in your heart, Allah will aid your way Nothing feels wrong, While nature sings song Days go along, Until we're gone Don't deceive, Just learn to heed Do believe, And you will forgive.
Beautiful light that lasted for long Your lightening shine suppress the cloud Brilliant Beauty from coast to coast Your brighter shine rule my world My lovely kids love painting in your midst Cos your presence add meaning to their paint Myself as well stock under your bountiful Likewise my firm, my wife roam through you Your fins and flippers eat the sea But your dominant serve the plant That is why I love to kiss you Cos you never demand without supply My sunshine, you are the haven That shine my home and my coats.
" Beavers and Black Widow Spiders ... " (From The Solomon Studies Series # 6) (Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29) Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both Architecturally - Skilled Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both Born With A Blueprint To Build Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both Furry Creatures - But To Few Appeal Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both Have A Bite That Can Cause Damage & Ill Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both Seems To Have Avid-Arrangement Zeal Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both - Busy Workers In Their Field Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both, Bold & Blocks With No Trespassing Shields Tho' Aracnids Can Spin and Create Aeirals Beavers, Can Route Strong Rivers' Terminals Tho' One Builds Dams & The Other One, Webs Both Are Gifted and Noted Construction Celebs Tho' One Owns Silk Factories & One - Lumber Mills Both Are Building With GOD's Contract, Permit-Seal Beavers and Black Widow Spiders Both Denizens Are Divine Designs By GOD's Will Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/7/2014 by: MoonBee Canady
Last year is when it once had been Now spring soon will start over again Then April showers will finally fall When birds sing can hear nature call. Squirrels in circles start running around Many flourishing flowers may be found More things to do you were meaning Such as washing with spring cleaning. Snow and ice all finally did disappear Greeted spring and are glad it is here To truly enjoy and always appreciate Thank You God for not having to wait.
Some times they say the great and mighty do fall… And the penguin story of greatness, should be heard by all. Polar bears are mighty and cunning with massive brute strength. But they messed with the penguins, a mistake, I do think. The polar bears went after the penguins and cute little chicks. So you'll never guess what those cute little penguins did. Using the most courageous penguins as a target so nice. They lured all the polar bears, for the first time, out onto the ice. The greedy bears moved out in force for the kill. But the penguins pushed the ice flows into the currents windmill. So intent on dinner and full of themselves, were they that day… That the polar bears didn't notice the ice caught in the currents sway. The polar bears were way out to sea, before noticing their plight. And, by then, the penguins were safely at home tucked in for the night. You might say, the current was a friend to the penguins that day. For it eventually sent those polar bears to the North Pole far away. Now the moral of this story is here to easily understand. Brute strength is not the greatest thing to cherish; it is far greater to plan… And, never turn your back on a penguin I say. They're the reason there's no polar bears at the South Pole, to this day. Tell Me A Story Contest
LAZY DAISY DAYS Languishing lying listlessly in the warm lamp of the sun Landscapes lingering language of lavishness again won Daisy dances decorate abundant demur flowerbeds Demonstrative distractive drapes-petite white heads Daylight daydreams decorate in delightful colored array Dispersing discord drama as I lazily capture a daisy day
" Maple Syrup and Wild Berries ... " (From The Solomon Studies Series # 9) (Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29 / Job 35: 11) Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both Are Delectably Sweet Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both Are of GOD's Plants & Nature Treats Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both Offers Earth's Tastebud Feasts Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Add Both To My Oatmeal, Pancakes or Waffles, Please Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both, Big Bears & Little Birdies Greet Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both Snacks - You Don't Have To Pack To Go Meet Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both, Kiss Our Childhood Memories Cheeks Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both - Put In Pies, Cakes & Cookies We Eat Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both Are Part of The Best Desserts' Recipies Tho' One's From A Bush & One's From Trees Tho' One, Pools Upon Breads & One, Dives Into Creams Tho' One Is Thick Sap & One's Plump & Juicy Both Flavors, We Savor As Distinct & Sugary Tho' One, When Bitten - Squirts Out Instantly The Other, When Tapped, At First Barely Leaks And Tho' One Is Poured & One Preserved or Jellied Both Are Placed As Sweet-Pleasures In Our Pantries Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both Are of GOD's Confection Delicacies Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Both Are From GOD's Bowl of Delicious Energies Maple Syrup and Wild Berries Holy Father, Thank YOU, For Baking Both Candies Maple Syrup and Wild Berries ... Will Your Leaves Be Curing Nations In Garden Entrees'? (Rev. 22: 2) O' Yeah! ... Taste and See How GOD Is Good, So Graciously Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/18/2014 by: MoonBee Canady
Storm rages brimestones from ages to ages. The earth quakes from its foundation,flakes of hell erupts from the depths beneath. Seed of discord blossom In the very cord of the society as nightfalls in soweto forestalls the dawning of a new era. Blaming mankind's curiosity or nature's complexity. This is my first attempt on couplet,critics are welcome to air their minds.
Their wing span stretched to full extent to catch the updraft compliment. Still bodies caught in endless flight Gray backs roll to sleek plumed white Ever on they plough the ocean Held aloft with graceful motion Testament to His creation Marvels of natural aviation Bodies turn on the slightest flip As they swoop and soar, bank and dip. Then one by one they disappear And suddenly the sky is clear.
The sun touches me and the cold leaves from within. I smell the good clean earth beneath my feet again. The ground isn't frozen. It feels so fertile once more. The wind kisses my skin with warmth I want to store. It's still very chilly around here late at night. But the beauty of the sun has begun to be just right. I see the tips of new growth, springing up everywhere. At last I leave my winter lair, for I have much to prepare. A shower is coming tomorrow. I must hurry to set my plants. But first I must rake the old leaves, left from winter's rants. My dogs stay close beside me to sniff the new tilled earth. Even the smallest animals, rejoice in spring's rebirth. The images that beseech me as I leave this old house… Are young, fresh, and with their colors I'll soon be doused. As the heavens begin to open and again bless this land… My mind opens to see, the touch of God's own hand.
From hearts and flowers the gaps between thoughts moments within hours gifts given and bought dew drops on lotus leaves skeletons of fish smiles of old wise men a reality from a wish deep ocean currents volcanic lava and ash letters from the postman a sudden increase in cash a photographic image words jumbled on a page the formation of clouds a bird outside a cage sweet laughter of a kiddie sad cries from those who've lost hard lessons learned and the price that it cost spectacular sunsets to snowmen who melt rain dripping from gutters life's cards you've been dealt 4 September 2013
The tree at the mall is right out front. 3 feet in; 4 feet out. Been shortened for powerlines and sparsened for rapists'. It's branches cut back where it's taxes placed it. The tree at the mall is right out front.
Welcome to my home for this is where I'll stay It's where I was born, and where I'll end my days It rests on the banks, of the Caledonian Canal Surrounded by it's Highland beauty, in typical enthral Cedars, Firs and Birch trees, iconic in their settings Rain clouds often surround us, cascades them in their wetting Then there's the carpets of heather, that cover clannish grounds Where you can tip toe over it's surface, and not even leave a sound To view the blooms of gorse, and marvel at our thistles Just leaves you so in awe, walking with a whistle We appreciate what nature gives, these breathing awesome beings To watch them in her wilds, we rub our eyes at seeing We are steeped in wondrous history, some good and not so grand But nowhere on this earth, will you have stepped on welcomed lands So welcome to my home, of mountains and the glens Where us Highlanders reside, the ultimate of men http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-4.php
Take a sip of the sky, Oh what a sight. The sun is setting on our treasured night. Like romantic propaganda we sit hand in hand, and stare out into the shadows of the land. Such romantic beauty to behold, I'm holding you close so you won't get cold. Dreaming of lives together as one, as we watch the beautiful setting sun. I couldn't ask for a sweeter combination, like our poetry, we stir every sensation. The power of the flesh, the dance of the heart. On love's stage we play every part. Mother Nature in all of her glory, Plays the backdrop for our love story. Two hearts coming together as one, our new journey has just begun. We could paint a picture, we could write a poem We could call this a future, call it our home. Its more than words and it is more than lines When two lovers with a like mind combines
Soft, silky, sweet and slow Sexy, sensual and aromatic OOOOOOOH Please release your concealing top Send me into a daze let mind go . . . AAAAAAAH Natural taste so rich it's lovely Thank you bee's for producing honey!
All the wind from east settles here Those tender leaves of spring fear tears Each birds' nest trembles by all moves Moms sit on eggs strong cold wind braves Imperative feelings she knows To nuture from cold impose Opens her mouth to lover He feeds her food he discovers Under God's hand, he is a provider A gift from God_his nuturing Touched by the Master's conjucturing Every minute God guides him To food to sustain and bring hymns Imagination can't express The magnitude of His grace's blessings Openly the birds sing Hallejuah To Christ who is Alpha and Omega Untrained, uneducated birds sing and worship Unto Him their anthem ring with purpose Sponsor: David Williams Contest: Vow/Con or Opposites Attract
< birds in perilous flight illuminating to this watchful eye's sight outstretched wings ~ soaring high bidding ado ~ waving goodbye homebound is their quest offsprings await safe return ~ back in nest red sky ~ tonight glad ~ I've captured this flight oh fly ~ my feather friends hope to see you ~ once again for this love ~ so brand new what's drawn ~ me to you Entry For Carolyn Devonshire's Heaven Sent Smiles Contest G.L. All
I have watched and admired the astonishing beauty of a sunset, usually at this time, dreamers and lovers put their thoughts to rest. It isn't a surprise to know that all poets love colorful sunsets, why would I reveal this secret to those dreamy, sleepy heads? Am I one of them, begging time to slow down instantly, to let me contemplate all the colors of a pretty tapestry? But who weaved it with such sheer perfection and exquisite taste? Were hands ever used, or was it a powerful voice saying, " Create! " Some don't believe it was created by a Supreme Being who chose the delicate hues to enhance the dazzling sunset with a divine touch...why are they still so dubious? There was an apparent reason why God gave peaceful sunsets a different image... to fill the believer's heart with that immense awe and praise His sacred name. And with the true conviction that all poets love colorful sunsets, I declare their magnificence while the evening peace spreads. Written by Andrew Crisci for nette onclaud's contest, " In 24 Hours "
The butterfly flutters by begin, begin as in true in nature love springs. Ageless amazing nerves sing, bowed tension on cello string. Eyes which will not let go, Father of Fire was bound, just so. Bound was man by the gift of flame for love brings man both joy and pain. Butterflies flutter within the begin ageless amazing nerves sing, Bowed tension on cello string a trail of kisses flowing, sting. Dry tinder burning in Earth bound glory love to Eye tells a comet's trailing story. Love begins on butterflies wings with the bowed tension of a cello's string.
Seasons Last Leaf Purged atop a lofty Popular A singular leaf all that holds Like in drowning - gasping for last breath A life once was – now clinging to the past The season of spring brought forth its life Love to blossom to bear fruit and green The wonders- all newly felt and viewed The leaf smiled among the young it knew In summer time the heat did soar The leaf grew as rains did pour By trials of wind water thunder and drought The leaf endured each tribulation and grew proud At first frost many shivered and fell But most became brilliant chrisom red- do tell A gathering of color painted by the creator's finger As the leaf among the many waited its time Now the last- singularly purged atop the lofty popular The life given it wavers to left than right Until the leaf rest among the assembled piles afoot In winter time a blanket comes Upon the leaf the piles the ground Nature cocoons to repair once more The hope that comes after winter's storms
Over 300 puddles of Sudbury lakes once scraped by a glacier in hundreds of shapes. Now filled with fresh water for everyones taste like playing or boating wherever they're placed. Some fish them or ski them in winter or summer. Ski Doo them; Sea Doo them and bring them in Hummers. There's swimmers and soakers with masks and with fins to snorklers and divers with tanks and black skins. With sunshine for tanners at rest on the shores to moonlight and coolers; our social outdoors. So don't ask your friends who they're coming to see. when Living With Lakes means sharing is free.
The gathered birds are making such a cacophonous sound. It is their way of telling me they now are onward bound. They are rounding up the young, reminding every single bird. They are so loud I am quite sure that every bird has heard. The blackbirds, starlings, swallows, are headed on their way. It's time to fill the feeders now for the little ones that stay. The chickadees and juncos, the towhees and that bunch, Will be pecking at my window and begging for their lunch. For just a few small handouts, they will keep me entertained And chase away my doldrums, when all I see is rain. With unspoken agreement, they'll provide the fun and song. My part their food and water, the whole cold winter long. received hm in this one
Embracing warped shadows with in crevice crouch till the morning light liberates the hideous gloom. Then upon the balmy breeze delirium vouch dawn's chorus melodious across the valley zoom. How fragrant this moment a day born again when sunbeams frolic within this a craggy place. Nature comes alive in hillside dale and fen simple truth abiding to ignite the human race. © Harry j Horsman 2012
I can't complain I'm sheltered and fed But this nagging ambition still builds in my head Of what was written and what was said Of a lonely road far from my bed You don't venture far tiny bird in the thicket The home you mind is safe from the wicked It's a shame you can't fly far away And see all the cultures time built on its way With the people of both peace and war And the beauty of things in nature to adore But your home is well kept and happy it seems But what of your heart, your wishes and your dreams I can't feel shame it would make me weaker About the wasted moments left to the meeker The scoundrel in me keeps my heart from fever But fever is wanted by my soul the dreamer So tiny bird would you say you much wiser The time you spend you count like a miser Or is it that you take simple love in your day In the little you make from the soil and the clay Do the storms bother you at all little one? Do the storms keep you hiding waiting for the sun? I see the light is there in the weather so destructive Are clouds to you renewal or counter productive? I take it we differ in thought and song Though I can no longer say yours is wrong But I take from you a lesson - a lovely subtraction In the happiness to be found in simple satisfaction
Sunshine and showers, Bring beautiful flowers, Beaming out, Each grow; each sprout, Joining our world here, Giving a scent to share, Each stem from below, The children watch slow, For its spring time, The seeds are worth a dime, Making this land, Worthwhile with hand, Gardening tools, Are brought to schools, Children make this beauty, The flowers start to bloom with duty, As they become more, Starting from the core, Drawn out in light, Watch closely from distance in sight.
Caissa poses brazen firm watching bishops spread and burn and in her awe demands a game for galaxies unnumbered fame, mesmerized by milky falls across the fortress Nebula. Through cosmic peppered crystal stars, she perpetrates her grasping pawns forcing out the king's last play a queen, the moon, usurps his rays. But Nebula bemuses chance of sweaty earth and circumstance, her systems sprout from treasured strife and knights patrolling massive life, nine new rooks of regal birth proving powers bursting forth. She names the goddess little pearl 'I'm waiting for you, fleshy girl, to challenge complex moves of mine, our last exchange, until next time.'
Where there is a gap in the dark gate There is a shaft of light, so intemerate. A ray that pulls all creatures to come along, To experience the magic,inspiration so strong. The sweet aroma in the air takes its course, To liven things up,with the illuminating force. The cold,drawn trees are filled with fervour , Dismayed,colourful butterflies now happily flutter. Birds soar the sky around While flowers enjoy the spotlight on the ground. The golden light sparkles as were to say- The clouded gate will open soon,light will make way. 2/8/2013
Introduction: Some days you feel alive, some days you don't...it's the elegance of life which many face in the days of existence. Through our own fray whatever it may be, we look out for a brand new way towards the light. We wander, more or less as a rabbit looking for its new home; crawling in and out within this baffled world to find serenity - To find a brand new day filled with everlasting aurora of peace and contentment. Sometimes the sky is blue, sometimes it looks so white Sometimes the truth hurts too, sometimes it's blinding bright Sometimes this life feels short, sometimes it seems so long Sometimes we go abroad, and at times we feel belonged Sometimes we want to heal, sometimes we just let go Sometimes we feel so real, sometimes we feel hollow Sometimes we don't forgive, sometimes we don't forget Sometimes we feel captive, and at times we do regret Sometimes we sure wonder and pray to leave things back Sometimes we surrender and we get back in track Sometimes we learn to deem the truth from the lies Sometimes we feel the change and start a whole new life One day we see one light that brings in so much hope It shows one true love, in a whole new view That day may be today, reading this here and now These words aren't just to rhyme, but to put a vivid smile A smile which won't leave off today As we all know it's a brand new day.
Look at the bright full moon It appeared so soon Stare at the skies While the ground is lit by fireflies Absorb the scene At midnight, its so serene A scene of perfection To it, there can be no rejection Listen to the echo of silence A precedent for an act of violence Here I am showered in this light No resistance, nothing else in sight Giving me catastrophic power My expectations were no lower I sense a change in me A demon that has been set free A monster hiding under my skin As if it were my very own kin I can feel my features disfigure Thanks to this mystical trigger I feel indestructible Annihilation I'll cause, unthinkable I'm a hunter by instinct All my logic, extinct This little prey Will have a price to pay I'll play with it for a while Run after it for a mile Corner it, then I will Savouring every moment of my kill Every bite is a bliss Feels like an angelic kiss Every slash is holy Giving me ultimate glory My conscience watches the horrific scene While the remains of my victim, I clean In my head its a melody in tune That is my curse and the full moon
The beauty of the golden dew when the sun still soft and new winter morning misty,cold dewdrops turning grass tips gold quiver as if giving a nod acknowledging the grace of God listen to their whispering talk in the mid of morning walk touch them gently,take their scent those tiny treasures all God sent. ******************************
Silver batise gown mother nature wears Long flowing garment with all plants she shares Cool and damp she covers each leaf and blade Preparing the earth for fall's rich deep shades Alive with color her gown will soon flow Richness and beauty the sun's rays will show Crickets enjoy their time gratefully sing Joy from thankful hearts resoundly ring
Alone climbed this hill, Watching so still. I overcame fears, Of all I held of yesteryears….. But up on this height, A majestic sight…….. Cloud flooded skies, A deep breath within me dries…. Tranquility!!! I feel you near, Oh I could sail in the winds without fear. My brown eyes held the stars to light, Soaked in the reflections that rose with pristine delight. Stillness of the moments I distinctly hear, Drained from within me is life's fear... Stillness my vacant eyes munificently dart around to feel, Blueness is sliding into night's lap, an obtuse glow alights its appeal. Calm waters come engulf my scorching mind, Pour yourself in through my eyes, quench burning embers that you find. Tranquility drench your serenity into me, Happiness flake my skin and singe it with peace to be. Now the simmering still waters seem uneasy, No waves lash the shores lying calm and easy. It seems that something has made it soporific, Sounds of relenting roars subdued by fresh snow layered thick……. Never ever the moon above has shined down so brightly, I welcome its soothing light within me forthrightly. No rushing water turning to foam, Retreats then comes again from the mountainous whispering domes…… Oh Moon, Entwine your auric wings of joys around my heart, Ooze from it pink flames, so darkness depart. Edify myself with joys of life Darkness gone, light piercing through like a sharp prudish knife. Welcome to my body all joys and peace, Let it override the ebbing forlorn to currents dwindle and decrease. Alone, I now sit, in quietude drenched, Content in myself and with no feelings wrenched. Gratified….soothened…satisfied…pleased, Relaxed…happy….at ease and contented……eased.
The morning sun glows the orange horizon. Children asleep, soundless, in the back seat, The daybreak dew sparkles on breezy leaves. Sunflowers bow toward the distant east. Winding roads traversing far-off landscapes. The hum of the engine mesmerizes. Peacefulness shines through a few floating clouds. Blueness not quite showing in skies above - No other vehicle for miles around. The window rolled part way down, breathes freshness. Golden grains wave with poise in western fields Black and white cows moo, in pastures, grazing. Wake up! Look Children! I remember well. The old red barn in the distance, smiling. © November 4, 2010 Dane Smith-Johnsen
dewdrops are sparkling over cactus thorn like icy diamonds this misty morn cold desert wind through the Mesquite trees the sweet smell of sage lingers in the breeze as the sun climbs past invisible clouds the burning sky melts the misty wet shroud mercury is high but the air is dry somewhere under the tangerine sky
I always have visions of running up the hill. Far from others but between us all. Leaping from a rock that's molten black and frozen in time at a distant call. Surrounded by a carpet of bright green moss with the feel of a mate and the urge to crawl. A hill whose top exhilarates and sets you below the dew. Where going back down's a pathway home and love a place to sprawl.
The sun rose more than an hour ago But the morning is a dismal gray. Windows are fogged with a clinging mist Looks like we're in for a rainy day. The sky is overpowering the sea. Visibility is restricted. Dune fences slick from hard driving rain. Have been uprooted, torn, and twisted. I struggled to keep an upbeat mood, but my demeanor was sinking fast. When out on the choppy slate gray sea A pod of dolphins went popping past. Slick silver skin, triangular fins. Undaunted by inclement weather. They frolicked and splashed in the water. And right then, my mood got much better.
The winds that blow at the top of the trees. Make the leaves, and the limbs, and the branches weave. Stare and stir, till your heart's content. At the mountains of forest, and the mountains of leaves. Mountains of loneliness.For the eyes to see.. The trees that whimper.The trees that sway. Bring mixtures of motions-motions conceived. A mixture of motions, at the top of the trees. The limbs, and the branches, they never give way. The branches too sturdy.Too sturdy they be. Limbs and branches.For the eyes to see.. Mountains, and mountains, and mountains of trees. Winds bring mountains-mountains of leaves. Leaves of green, and leaves of brown. Watch the leaves as they fall to the ground. Leaves from trees.For the eyes to see.. Whistling winds.Trees that weep. Droplets of sap.Droplets that seep. Droplets that seep, from the trees that weep. Towering trees.Trees that tower. Trees that tower over me. Towering trees.For the eyes to see.. Mountains of brown.Mountains for all. These mountains they glow the color of fall. The color of fall's the color for me. As the leaves come down.Leaves of brown. Leaves of brown, they're all around. All around.For the eyes to see. The mountains and forest seem to lie still. As the winds calm down.On this blundering hill. The leaves on the trees.They rest in place. These mountains of trees.They're never erased. Never erased, are these mountains of trees. Mountains of trees.For the eyes to see.. Seasonal-Nature-Poem by Kim Robin Edwards Copyright 1982,2014.. ALL rights reserved..
The way he moves, like he's floating on wings, Dancing in beat to the song that he sings; Dipping down, then up again fast, A dance like his goes on, unsurpassed; He spins to the left and then to the right, Listen closely to the beautiful song he recites; "Ya hey-ya hey-ya" he chants to the beat of the drums, One by one the crowd is awed and one by one succumbs; To the spell that his slow movements have cast, Till they have no perception of time that has passed; His deliberate actions tell of his tale, Of how one day he will prevail; And soar with the beings up in the sky, And then to the heavens he will fly! ~Honorable Mention in the "Fill in the Blanks" Contest by Paula Swanson~
Stop it, we're stressed, Our collective mind, regressed! Searching for fields of clover, Flower to flower. over and over. But those planes full of bug spray,,, A little of that and we fly astray We just want to do our job, But were turning into an aimless mob. Remember we help to make your food; Without us you might just be screwed. And you think we will tell our honey-making facts, We're sorry, but that's none of your beeswax! So just admit it you need us more than you think, Were out of sync, we could be gone in a blink. We can't find our way to our honeycomb home, That stuff that you spray makes us aimlessly roam. Our children need a life that's serene, An please, God, help us save the queen!
Along Sunny Shore Along sunny shore water will swirl; In gentle motion will toss and twirl While ripples back and forth will go On a surface where the sun does show. I realize when I see the reflection What does go on in every direction; A dock near river is being built Over sand which seems soft as silt. In my kayak from new dock will travel To see mysteries of life that unravel; Later on our dock will sit and look Wondering what to write in my next book. email@example.com
Imitated posies; Plastic stems thirst not. Mother-Nature is duplicated not!!!
The moon inhales a bunch of cosmic dust Making it seem the craters are of rust Unknown is the start of glowing stardust Maybe he's found his powers that adjust I love the moon and if he surely must He digs in his pocket, showers stardust Nice here on Earth with heaven sent stardust It swirls in the wind, picks up in a gust The moon delivers its pride, not a bust What we have embraced, the love of stardust Russell Sivey Entrant into Gail Angel Doyle's "Blanket of Stardust" contest 1/11/2013
As fair Spring flaunts her colorful array, Pale Winter sheds frosty tears each day!
Mother Nature embraces me in her arms Natural beauty and natural harms I could feel her love when she blows me a kiss But I sensed a pain in this natural bliss I've felt her tears while I heard her heart break I've seen her rage in the deepest earthquakes A burning fire deep in her core A single touch and we are no more I've once felt her fire penetrating my skin And the cold hard ground that she buries us in I feel her pain and mine is the same She is unappreciated and that is a shame So I showed her that I love her After all, she is my mother And now she's smiling once again Drying off her tears of pain Gently blowing her sweet kisses That my heart so dearly misses
I want to remember the feeling of throwing a rock Watching it skip as I stand on the dock Never worrying how far it will go If it gets there fast or slow In that moment time moved as a snail Nothing in this world could fail It flies crooked & bounces wrong Didn't even skip for long And that's ok Because before you could think to care Every little boy had another flying through the air
Sweet butterfly with wings of gauze Give this tired heart a moment's pause Unburdened by the human cloak Freedom's spirit your flights invoke Dreaming times in cloudy spheres Raining droplets made of tears With not a whisper you fly away I would not bid you here to stay Beside your path goes just a bit of me For one moment my soul flies free for the Butterfly contest
If I could come back I would be a great star. I would dance up above and protect from afar. When the night got too long, yet you feared the day. Through your window I'd creep to keep bad one's away. To the sea I'd invoke as you watch from the sand. I would whisk you away to the moon with my hand. With my powerful light angry storms would subside. Not even a beacon could shine such a light! I would scare away evil's who lurk in the mist. They would hide in the caves with one shake of my fist! A mere mortal I'll roam until my time is due. I'm your star who's earthbound brightly shining for you.
Here in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, is the most pristine spring water anyone will know. Oh how wonderfully bright and clear. Nobody has springs like the ones found here. The drops twist and turn through the mountain streams. They move like the ones in the most elaborate dreams. Just as liquid crystal they will flow. The streams help all life to live and grow. Well, I am a lifelong East Coast man. Am I able to travel to Colorado? I never can. I have a small sample of Rocky Mountain water right here. I will pour it out of this can of beer. Written 9/21/2011 Robert Pettit
I was sitting on the beach enjoying the dawn When along comes a crab with two fierce pincers drawn When I shifted off slightly to give him some space He sat down beside me with pincers retraced. This fellow was not of the cute well known kind But a creature evolution had let lag behind His shell was a tangle of shiny shellac A dashed wall arrangement of polka dot black I wondered to myself would he think it queer If I asked him the question what are you doing here Since I was the human who traveled the land And he just out walking on a dry piece of sand So we sat there in silence each in his own space Yet somehow connected in the rising sun's grace As he walked to the water with an eight clawed resolve Was he thinking to himself would man ever evolve? Retracing those steps made eons before He paused where the waves became one with the shore With a last look around taking time to regroup He gracefully entered the primordial soup
Last Fall, my church's Scouts and I went hiking. A few miles north of Big Sur's coast, There is a forested park much to our liking. Point Lobos is the nature preserve that I love most. The beauty there is supernal, beyond description. We chose our trails with maps and compasses, And practiced local plant identification. I pointed out Monterey Pines and Cypresses. For a time we climbed a steep inclination. We looked down into a cove, home of sea otters, From a viewpoint near the old whalers' station. We climbed through a cleft worn down by waters. That Saturday outing wasn't a total disaster. The boys passed tasks to advance in ranks. Life doesn't get much better for an old Scoutmaster. Lastly, to the Great Spirit we all gave thanks. For Goethe Stanzas contest
Driving down our country lane yields sweet fragrant orchards and vast pumpkin fields… The bustling sounds of autumn are heard here and there with early signs of harvest, and a rustle in the air A tractor is billowing dust up through the trees frightening the birds, and disturbing the bees Tall wheat has been harvested and raked in high stacks Into neat hills and mounds, alongside the old railroad tracks From the high reaching branches, the ripened fruit has smiled with mountains of bushel baskets teetering in piles Wagons are loaded with round pumpkin faces Displaying fall's bounty so proudly, in warm sunny places Autumn in my neck of the woods By Carrie Richards 10/3/11 For Michael's Contest: Falling In Love With Fall
The waves roll in and whisper to the sand. Hushed toned tales from mysterious foreign lands. Two boats pass red green lights shining bright. One heading home one off to fish the night. The sky is bright and backlit to the west In a faded pink toned long sheer flowing dress. A flock of geese draws the curtains on the close of day. Silent black dots flying then they fade away. A round red moon like a glowing ball of fire Rekindles thoughts of romance and desire. Happy with what I have not what I lack As the surrounding landscape slowly fades to black.
An ode to nature ....... Whether it is the solitude bliss of the cozy air blowing, Or the excellence of the river's flowing, Or the wonderfulness of the tabletop plateaus which is at a single time many things showing. I always enjoy the beauty of nature, And the one who has created it must be a wonderful creature. I always admire this creation of god, Whether it is the bark of the dog, Or the great scenery of the winter's hazy fog. A beautiful scenery of nature of always in my mind whether I lay on my couch, Or see the jumping kangaroos carrying their young ones in their pocket pouch. By bowing a seed, the mother nature we can feed, And can find a place in heaven which we indeed need. By growing a tree, From all the bad karma's we get free, And with a positive prospective the world we can see. The beauty of nature can't be described in words, Somewhere it is beauty of animals and somewhere the beauty of birds. Of the nature I am a big fan, The best is that on it's beauty no one can put a ban. But unfortunately mother nature is losing it's beauty, As some are not properly doing their duty. With fully opened eyes we should look around, And then say if such monsters are not found. By Rachit Bansal
A flower rejects the chill of winter's icy constrain to bathe in harmony with the heavenly spring rain A princely frog on his lily pad chains awaits his mate and descent of fertile spring rains A sly fox trying to survive his hunger pains cunningly awaits the lifesaving spring rain A farmers precious crop would be sown in vain without the arrival of blessed spring rain When harsh winters leave us desolate and drained we embrace in the bosom of the rejuvenating spring rain
Whale with a Long Tail There was a whale with a long tale, Who, out of her hole, would exhale Water way high up into the sky; People would see it while passing by. Mother and calf both live in a pod; They are always protected by God And also man who there are many, But one day whales may not be any. So before off all of them do die Take care of them we should try; Even if still a calf or are fully grown Best thing to do is leave them alone. email@example.com
THE DAY IN A LIFE Please, lowly and so very hairy worm, believe ! You must have faith, your luck will turn; your somewhat desperate soon-to-be flutter will cause provision - of bread and butter - to a family's table very far away; this thought really ought to be making your day ! Alan McAlpine Douglas
Come in, you wind, please, settle down Must be quite tired, all that rushing around! Tell me a tale – oh, come on, dear wind! Tell me what you've seen, tell me where you've been? Yes, please come in, wind, to tell me a story – Whatever you speak of, I know will not bore me You've flown over here, blown over there, Visited places no one would dare You've traveled so near, traveled so far, Say, what is it like to touch all those stars? You can drip like the rain, rush like the water, Cool things way down or make them much hotter You come on in, my dear, dear friend wind Blow right through my soul, cleanse me deep down within Then, take me with you as you go, my dear wind Carry me gently, pull me loose from my skin Let's dance windy waltzes as we swirl through the air A lover's embrace – feel the joy we will share When our wind dance is over & you return me to human, I'll feel so much better, a happier woman! Yes, let us go then, wind, you and I Throughout the galaxies let us spread wings and fly Across the blue, true dream of sky Let us go then, wind, just you and I
Golden blood, strong and pure, Seeping from fellow wooden hearts. Emerald blades, tall and humble, Beaded with silvery tears. Weathered scarlet hoods, sorrowed and low, Concealing unseen beauty. For centuries it stands, Its arms stretched wide, For it cannot run, nor can it hide. It sits to watch the seasons pass, To witness life and death, alas. Mother to the forest, And all that roams. Internal emotion blazes from the soul, Though from within it is contained, Behind those barky ribs. Pity and shame, Can only be felt, For this silenced sage. Seemingly immortality is possessed, Though even this almighty will cease.
Flowers bow before the sky. Puffy clouds drift lazily by. Birds are now chirping a song. Sunshine rays feel of gold bronze. Butterflies dance in the gentle wind. Warm weather, God surely does send. Spring is knocking on my door. How can I stay inside and ignore? It is begging me to come out and play. Leave the work inside for another day.
The first snowfall has arrived, carpeting natures grounds Her pure virgin lay blows me away in total abound The winters colours now hidden, no more ashen dulls and greys For a marvel appears before me, I'm smiling on a winters day Skeletal trees show promise, shadowed by topside white In turn it allows the nighttime to show an element of bright Rooftops now show like tiles amidst a background of black Streetlights sharpen it's glow, for it's white shall never lack I awaken the following morning to find her virginal lie now scathed Footsteps of natures creatures criss-crossing their mental pave Having witnessed the first snows of winter, shows another seasons here Her tomorrows I look so forward to, to me she so endears *~* For the "First Snowfall" contest *~*
The hills are alive These hills are alive with mystery As I sit here all alone and free. It's morning time, so beautiful As I listen to the wild birds call. That God is here I know for sure Her presence fills me more and more I hear music loud and clear The song of nature's always here Among these hills that I love best I sit here filled with happiness 25 June 2014 @ 0826hrs. I offer this pathetic write to Scots contest, sorry mate, too short for me but done my best
Once I was naïve and innocent And believed that everything was Heaven sent I was like a flower – soft and gentle Open to the slightest breeze's pull I grew in unbridled sunlight Where everything was perfect and right But then there came the long, hard frost And in an instant life was lost The will to live vanished so fast And I became nothing but a steel cast A cast of what I once was My wounds bandaged with metal – not gauze I became resistant to the breeze Nothing seemed to put my soul at ease But I chose life over death And continued to take in deep breaths While no longer so easily swayed I haven't lost all of my old ways I've learned it's not always wise to hide And have come to embrace both sides Of my life and who I hope I'll become Without forgetting where I'm from
I am a party animal, my heritage is mixed quite content to lounge about when conditions remain fixed. Suppose that's the nobility which Krypton must provide, maintaining stiff upper lip when I'm all buzzed inside. Then too, I'm mostly nitrogen, which is very stable, tamping volatility of oxygen: it's able to combine with hydrogen (that's also in my make up). Uncontrolled? Oh that would lead to an explosive break up. Carbon Dioxide? Its percentage varies night and day: vegetative respiration, or so the boffins say. I wonder why I don't glow multicoloured in a storm: my neon, argon, radon being Vegas lighting norm. If I had more Helium the humans would sound squeaky. I imagine the attraction of that chap Enrique Would suffer greatly from affliction. He'd become mundane, and prove downright offensive if I gave him more methane. I've also Nitrogen Oxide, not Nitrous NO2, and a soupçon of ozone which had once protected you from harmful rays from Out There much more than now is measured. It seems that humans cannot see what really should be treasured. I'm moved by friction of the Earth and pressure off the bat while Coriolis effect pushes me this way and that: north and south of the equator, the opposite I spin. Any other speculations, my friends, are simply wind.
white-capped waves dance on an angry sea, as the tempest grows in intensity. written 9/29/11 for Brian Strand's Succinct contest.
I stood in the balcony for a long time.... Staring at the twinkling stars & fine; Wishing that if any will fall... I will catch it as though it were a ball....! When the mischief of winter was at its best... While the feathery birds shivered in the nest; I stood alone....waiting for the night To cover me in its blanket~so dark & tight...! While the affluent babus rested in their AC chamber; While the poor man sustained the threats to his slumber... By Winter,much like a terrorist grave.... But yet he survived with a heart brave...! & I was there....all awake; Munching the moon as if it were a cake; Whispering to the stars my stories n secrets.... Flocked by glow-worms & thousand other insects....! I was living my dream...with Nature,I guess... Inventing codes of happiness.... While the city was dreaming in its sleep... Toiling against the wintry-sweep........!!!
The snowfalls of my childhood are but memories today, In mild winters where I live now, fifteen hundred miles away. Today I wakened to a sight that took me back in time, Bright snow covering the ground, surprised trees wreathed with rime. The roads are ice arenas, which few drivers can traverse. Cars lie abandoned by the side, or in the ditch, or worse. The schools are closed and children are sliding down the hills, Some partaking for the first time in a snowy day of thrills. I wish that I could conjure up a horse and big red sleigh That I could take out for a drive on such a wintry day. I'd bundle up my grandchildren in my big sled for a ride To enjoy the startling beauty of a wintry countryside. Written for Francine's contest " A Winter Couplet" Theme chosen. "First Snowfall"
Sunny days don't turn me on, but I like the rays they bring. Moonlit nights do rock my world, and make me want to sing. It may sound strange that I prefer the dusk more than the dawn. It wakes up my mind and body, and a sudden energy comes on. Some say it is depression, an avoidance of some sort. I will beg to differ there, but many thanks for their support. It is best described by me, as a peace the day can't give. It does not seem chaotic, and there is more time to forgive. The sounds I like also come at nighttime for some reason. I prefer the crickets chirping, to an alarm clock any season. Last but not least the romance seems to flourish at that hour. Whether in the bed, the kitchen or my favorite - in the shower. Sunny days don't turn me on, I do not need them to feel heat. Moonlit nights do rock my world, and then the day's complete.
Where Have You Been? Rainbow, rainbow where have you been? Will we ever, ever see you again? High in sky where you seem to soar As I stare at you from my front door. What there must be is a cloud burst This is the thing that happens first From background which is dark and gray Dangerous for me when outside I play. Sharp lightening could happen any time And then in thunder will begin to chime All of us desperately it does scare Hearing loud, booming sound everywhere. What a beautiful arch it will be (Golden if in St. Louis) Which God has just made for you and me It skipped on by so I hit the sack In my dreams, rainbow returned and came back. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran
The mountains stand soaring, touching the sky, Their snow-capped craniums held high. The brooks and the rivers, crystal clear Carry the Essence of Life - water so dear. The air is always untainted and clean Dust and dirt forever unseen. The shrubbery and vegetation are flourishing fast "The Slash and Burn age" is now the past. Dreams, you see, are peculiar things, Unknown and unseen into our mind it clings. Some come true while others fade, This dream, O Lord, let it not fail. 'Coz this little dream is not just mine, It's yours and theirs; it is growing…the line. Let's not stand aside and stare away, Let's get into action and pave the way. To make this world a cleaner one. To make our short stay much more fun. Day by day, hour by hour, Let's build up our dream destination.
Midnight has come to drape her robe Of darkness over this side of the globe. Smooth, like velvet, it muffles all sound Save for the hem touching the ground. And from its deep folds, bright jewels shine forth: Lyra, Orion, the Star of the North. Such riches never before seen on Earth Sparkle these diamonds of unmeasured worth. Midnight displays her riches untold; To her stars are dust. How would she treat gold?
1. Rain, Ambrosia of existence, by its showers. 2. Besides source of crops, nourishment to consumers. 3. If rain ceases, wide cosmos is famished. 4. If stormy-rain diminishes, tillage also becomes impractical. 5.Rain destroys, as destroyer indeed, preserves ruined. 6.If no drizzling, even grass appears rare. 7.Even ample ocean dries, if rain fails. 8.Ritual, festal offers terminate, if draught continues. 9.Charity, prayers discontinue, if rain offers not. 10.Rain preserves conduct, as existence by water __________________________________________ Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31B.C)the author in Tamil Translated byS.Kandasamy,Musiri,Trichy(Dt),TN,India Published on poetrysoup.com on 3-12-2013 Email firstname.lastname@example.com
I watch the swaying brown tipped rushes Against my cheek the gentle wind brushes On quiet blue a dragonfly dips its feet Landing where the sun and water meet Blackbirds flash a wing of ruby red Busy keeping a nest of fledglings fed Bullfrogs with throaty voices call Declaring their presence to one and all Faint sound of traffic accosts my ears As twilight descends and darkness nears Saddened by the coming months of fall This habitat destined to be a shopping mall......
Summer Is Here Life starts over when summer is here And all of the things I love so dear Are now blooming and have come alive. Through winter and spring did survive. Beauty is in each bloom that I see And birds flying high and so free From the sun they are now all tanned And tired looking for a place to land. They always know place which is the best And all return back to their nest Built on top of a tall, tremendous tree Which is where God wants them to be. email@example.com
Spring woke the world out of its dismal sleep, Musical sounds of life rejoiced, no longer compelled to weep, Cocoons cracked fervently, While light permitted the earth to see, The splendor of such a sweet creation, Arising with vigor and anticipation, Marvelous pigments danced in the warm wind, Deep in the meadows is where their lives did begin, Like little flags in midair waving in victory, It was time for perfection to finally be free, Butterfly kisses consumed the atmosphere, Gracefully loving all that came near, patches of wings swirling in vibrant trails, lavender violets just casually sailed, Souring so brightly without a care, Delicate and delightful some extremely rare, While landing for a moment in a garden of flowers, They drank of sweet nectar, renewing all power, Rejuvenated, now ready to flee, Onward they swayed towards their destiny. By: Sabina Nicole written: 4-8-12
MARGUERITE'S CHARMS Rainy day finally gave way to intermittent sun - Walked out with camera before rain should return, And fell in love, mesmerized, helpless, captivated. Stopped at garden with waist-high iron railings, riveted, And its flowers stunned me. Never knew you could get So many blooms into a pocket-handkerchief spacelet. Hanging baskets overpouring their petunias down To meet roses climbing tenaciously up the trelliswork brown; And tubs along the short path, each tub - afire and flaming With joyful marigolds of yellow and orange - jostling For space to get fired up and send their glow Over the path's six stepping stones, submerged below Spreading alyssum and spotted lobelia, which crept Cautiously over the bottom of the railings stepped. But filling this mini-realm were the marguerites' charms, Reaching through their tiny prison's bars into my arms, Offering their open hands in supplication, white innocence, Wide spread, full of generous, pure opulence : Golden topaz seed-centres glossed with raindrop spot. Oh I touched them as I might an uncertain cat, careful not To spill their watery yolks. They ignored the iron bars with ease, And begged me to pluck them, waving steadily in the breeze, And invading the footpath outside the garden with their whirl, Looking me in the face and smiling irresistibly like a pretty girl, Welcoming, flirting, lovely, brushing my fingertips to invite, Large,perfect, pristine, fragile, graceful, white. Took some quick pictures as the rain came suddenly back there, As it does in every head-over-heels love affaire.
Without the vase,colour blooms witnin,death and gloom
trees are building the walls the sun shows the stalls leaves color the roof along the path I hoof damped footsteps resonate wait and hesitate in front a three fork a forested torque along the smallest path with a homely lath branches move aside light rises a new tide talking causes a blot a small hidden spot with a heavenly gun a pond mirrors the sun ©Ellie Daphne 2013
Abounding and Resounding Ice and broken branches did fall down Onto ground where grass is now brown Sun came out and back to life will bring What once had been dying and everything. Spring soon will be here with life abounding Gave God cheer which was really resounding Thanked Him for life which would appear And, again in winter, it will disappear. Life is just like a continuous action Giving your soul so much satisfaction By God, all of it had been granted Along with some seeds I had planted. James Thomas Horn www.poetrysoup.com
A tempest calls calm south seas to rise and fall and they appease their shifting partner the warm air of whose plan they're both aware Soon winds and water will make an eye which searchs upward, low and high all the sky for signs to cease its ephemeral turning and to release the many tons of water held by those clouds that bend and meld themselves into a twisting pair which first appears a bad affair but soon each arm's center is found which sends them faster round and round Now spiraling with perfect rhythms the sign is seen and countless prisms of captured water are set free to fall to land, then seep to sea and all the rivers and creeks that drain that melting snow and heavy rain complete the final phase of something cyclic that does amaze with both its perfect paired pieces and its broken and breaking releases that come from lack of counterweight Yet this slightly flawed state will always lead into a new just as beautiful point of view that is only seen when in between two balanced parts of a machine Like the winds and water that make an eye which soon unravels to reveal blue sky
My butterfly garden of splendid views Bestows trails of wings in vibrant hues Blooming flowers tempt with nectar sweet As butterflies flutter, grand colors a treat Their grace lifts my soul in the dawn's early hour While I watch them dance from flower to flower In morning glory, a monarch kisses then flies This butterfly gift, a charming surprise She gently touches my hand as I freeze Her delicate wings then wave on the breeze A moment in time, beauty given to me On wings of glory, a cherished beauty My butterfly garden of splendid views Bestows trails of wings in vibrant hues But one brilliant monarch floating on the wind Landed for a visit and became a dear friend By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, April 1,2012 for a Butterfly's Trail of Kisses contest (Gail Doyle) first place
Ankle deep water, ebbing, seeping From melting ice to flood is leaking To form a rapid river flowing Ounce by ounce this stream is growing To wash into an oval pool besides Then rush to meet the rising tides Of oceans deep and full and wide Where froth upon the billows ride Upon a yellow sandy shore Where shells collect up by the score Displayed in jars in seaside shops Among golden pears and red gum drops From mountains high and oceans deep Where eagles soar and dolphins leap From high above to down below So much beauty to love and know
I dare not go outside today, For fear that I might wash away. God's sending rain in steady stream; The day is soggy to extreme. I simply do not have a clue How all the little birds make do. God so busy making weather, They'll be soaked, in every feather. He provided an umbrella. The holly tree, that big fella Is shielding tiny birds, I bet And keeping them from getting wet
When I awake I can hardly wait To hear sparrow who sounds so great; Such a nice way to start of the day While I work inside and will stay. Windows have opened each and all So I can hear all of nature call In form of sparrow so freely singing Who to me much joy is bringing. As the clouds all started to form And I knew soon could come a storm Sparrow wondered what was the matter; There was so much singing and chatter. Storm passed by and bright sun now see And again with God I then truly agree Sparrows chirping and their presence I love and appreciate in every essence. James Thomas Horn, Bolivia, NC.
Dark wolf down in Lost Ravine shot and killed somewhere between, yesterday and three o'clock sleek form lying on black rock White wolf howls across blue skies grey clouds gather in her eyes lightning strikes as she descends to spill the bright red blood of men.
< my deepest passion outstretched wings of an eagle in fashion encircling his domain tride and true he remains sno-capped peaks for mate he seeks call of the wild imatate like a child fields of green crystal streams beyond horizon sun's new arising take me back home to where the eagle roams for the capture of ones flight is purity for ones watchful eye's sight so come join me on this excursion inspiration you'll be splurging I thank you my feather friend be safe until we meet once again for you hold your own glory as it's told in this tales story Entry For Amy Green's Contest My Deepest Passion G.L. All
Into the wild I wish to go Where birds fly free and flowers grow To lose myself in state of mind That other folks will rarely find I want to find that special place Where not a man has turned his face I wish to sail the unseen waves Of wind rushing through wild caves To climb the mountains in all their height And once atop in the view delight To smell a rose and run with deer Out in the wild I'll have no fear Far away from any man The noise and bustle that rule the land When darkness falls I settle down And listen to the owl's wise sound I'll sleep beneath the watchful moon And stars that shine o'er silent dune When dawn springs forth and sun comes out Awake I'll rise with joyous shout Into the wild I wish to go In summer sun or winter snow To lose myself and then I'll find The part of me that once was blind
Our position was on top of the summit Then downward we started to plummet; Snow and ice seemed to be everywhere So we had to descend with much care. High up on tall mountain, we had been And thought and thrill of doing it again Entered our minds reaching the bottom; Will go again next year in the autumn For a while we will continue to yearn; Majestic mountain is where we will return And see leaves as their colors do change To bright ones which at bottom re-arrange. All deciduous trees did become bare; Snow and ice now was every where And although I have become much older Beauty still stays in eye of the beholder. email@example.com
The hawk was flying low: he was the fiercest in the sky. He bullied all the little birds, and flew off with their lives. The little birds were peaceful, and didn't want to fight. To them it was better: to run and hide, then finally to take flight. Day after day he drove them closer, to the proverbial, final brink. Then came the day, they rose up, and no more away to shrink. Soon there would be hatchlings, so the bully, simply had to go. No longer were they timid, it was their time to truly show. Banding together they hatched a plan to run the bully day and night. One can fight, one or two, but a mob shows way more might. Constantly in pursuit, the bully was never allowed to rest… The bully finally admitted defeat, and even moved his precious nest. He could not protect it, if they kept him running away, and stressed. The bully had finally learned the truth: that is my moral here… The small may look an easy mark, but are not as helpless as they appear. If the meek are brought to their knees… look out my bully… dear.
A wayward star has lost it's place Amidst the vastness known as space Too close to earth it's path did lead This shooting star for us to see
The lamp post sits upon the right Of the street shining its light To reveal a snowflake fallling down To stake a claim upon the ground A spot so very small but yet This is only a tiny step For later on in the nights deep More flakes will fall to hide the street For though each flake is but small They work together to cover all To make the ground a shining white The lamp reveals upon the right
I remember in the evening's dusk, The singing breeze in the drying husk; Along woods edge, the whippoorwill's cry, So alluring its call angels would sigh. Yes, I remember the whippoorwill, But do the angels remember still? The call that echoed the end of day When man would put his labour away; And meditate with the singing breeze And the whippoorwill amongst the trees. I wonder if angels sigh of choice, For never now do I hear its voice.
I gaze in awe at skeins of geese in flight, Framed within the majestic moon at night! From whence they came I ponder And whither they go I wonder! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired © All Rights Reserved
Adventures in the underground did that grow up or down Light on my head starring into the dark what a funny word to be called as I imbark Could it be because I tread water and guano up to my knees or the sound I would make if I took a wrong step aiiee Like an aztec two steps which way do I go looking across the vast pothole As I am pitching and squeezing back to the top I am know speleologist but has any one seen the cave cop I can see the light of day from this cavern maybe next time let's just talk about it at the tavern For I am filthy and dirty but not the word maybe only to a caver if you have not heard
Our summer is late this year Spring showers keep coming still But the meadow is full of green And glorious wild flowers seen Patience, for the sun will shine We'll have picnic weather sublime Then begging for cool breezes And relief from summer sneezes Too soon the hills will brown And then be wearing winters gown Seasons seem to fly right by The year gone with a sweet sigh
During the fall overwhelmed with crisp air, Is a time where I like to share, A treat with my sweetest love, While we gaze far above, Underneath the late noon sky, After the bugs don't want to fly, I can enjoy the time we share, As the cool breeze blows my hair, Laying down on Satin sheets, In the grass our eyes do meet, Eating fruit from the vine, A glass of Merlo adds to our dine, Purple, pink, reds and blues, A canvas painted just for two, Sounds of leaves whispering as they meet, Glorious birds harmonizing beats, Marching ants finishing up their day, Alongside where we lay, souls are restored by the silent lake, Nature gives, it does not take, Quiet reflection of our day, A picnic in the fall is the best way! 5-10-11
If people were noodles and lakes were their soup, Sudbury's basin would be a great scoop. 300 lakes or just a bit more. Some have been counting and some are just bored. Sudbury's water is healthy and clean leaving our noodles shining with gleam. Fresh water soup minus the salt, fresh as going into; fresh by default. Trees for our parsley cover our shores keeping us fancy and breathing for more. Soup we serve fresh out of each bowl welcoming noodles the world whole.
Where salt air, sand and soil meet; A breeze of seasons sung a day. Life grows to pass beneath your feet; Still under grass we sleep to stay.
There a movement in the trees The goings of an autumn breeze Tickling leaves of red and gold Making hot summer into winter cold And in the air there goes a wisp Of smoke riding on air so crisp Of days to come this is a sign Of seasons change and change in time For heavy coats and fire bright New stars to see up in the night But at this time before the snows It's falls turn now to put on a show First one tree and then the next A show so striking so complex And looking up the sky so blue But this is nothing compared to You A glimpse of Heaven for us to see A hint to us Your great beauty But as for now we'll stand amazed Of wondrous things that You have made Winter's coming and summer's gone And fall won't be here very long Now out the window look alas Night has come so very fast Time to sleep but again we'll see In the morn this great beauty
There once was a boy and a magic willow tree For in this tree the boy was all that he could be The tree was old and strong And together is where they belong The branches hung low but the tree stood high And together the boy believed they could fly Adventures would arise Many bad guys found there demise The tree was a space ship ready for flight To take the boy far out of sight The tree was a fort Or a big ship coming to port The tree was a jungle gym Letting the boy swing from limb to limb When the boy ran out of imagination This was not cause for hesitation He still had yet to reach the top Maybe a little afraid of the drop But with this tree nothing was impossible No adventure was ever stoppable The higher the boy climbed The more the world shined As the top grew near Far was he from fear Together they saved the day And all along it was just play There came a time when the tree had to go The boy was sad, but he did not know That where this tree once stood, many more would grow
A bird flutters its wings, Propelling itself into flight. A gargoyle stares down at London with its gruesome smile. A whale swims slowly, Its huge mouth open to eat. Under the ground, a mother Rabbit nurses her young. A boy lays sleeping, Darkness falling. All the places we can go, None is as pleasant as home.
I step outside the house this morning And notice a change that's come without warning Yesterday the air I breathed was bitter So much so that it made me chitter Today there seems to be a hint Of the warmth coming after winter's stint The atmosphere seems different too; The sky, a slightly brighter blue There's also a scent that I remember Disappeared completely around last September It seems to be returning now And is that a shoot on that high bough? I, myself, feel different as well There's a certain optimism casting it's spell Over my usual gloomy bent Changing my mood to one of content Looking around at the once bare earth I see the signs of brand new birth I smile at the world, it's new life still young It seems, that finally, Spring has sprung
Agile feelings all alone Fragile living on my own Fickle fingers typing thought Meaning, depth and insight sought Drowning sorrows, quicksand driven Floating promise slowly risen Words contained, but yearn to fly Caged, the birds in my mind's eye Burn the rust within this soul Combust with freedom, make me whole Transform this canvas, recreate Brand the keeper of this gate As art well sculpted by brain power Planted seeds that sprout to flower And nurtured by an inner voice Where roots grow deeper, fed by choice
Tell me the secrets to your life, bushman Show me how to befriend the garish land Guide me through nature's surviving devotion Teach me with dry eye that knows no ocean Lead me to hope in battlefields dead Limit the sweat drops that stroke my forehead Grace the cracked crevice of yesterday Turn them 'to valleys of knowledge at play Whisper to me the ancestral dream Wet each subtle contoured stream that smooth the plains of a timeous kingdom Nestle me against the bosom of freedom Forgive ignorance raised from infancy Respectfully remind me of bliss and harmony Make everything new, as it once was Shelter my prayers in shallow graves past Mark them with nourished droughts of fortune Symbolised by strength and wisdom in unison Synchronise peace through roots of your heart Celebrate remembrance through sticklers of art Let blood warmth that course through your veins Recycle this savage 'til the end of days Navigate me to heaven hidden in the stars Simmetrically ripen my thought battlescars Understand and bleed into me as if earth Entwine and bear with me, oh ethnic since birth
The rise of Atlantis For this I don't want you to miss Coming of the new world With Justice dressed as it's girl An apple from God's slate Filling the hunger for ones plate Safe harbor to now call home Empowered by minds that love to roam
Beautiful lights that glare before me, Magic delights you allow me to see. Mystical Rain in the sky up above, Mystical Rain throwing stardust of love. A surreal sight as I stand and adore, Leading the way - so that men reach the shore. Mystical Rain in the air all around, Mystical Rain making love without sound. Marvelous specks of desire in my view, Lightly you peck at my face like the dew. Mystical Rain; blue metallic and green. Mystical Rain; play your tune quite serene. A show so alive as you dart through the sky, Helping planes through the mist, where pilots do fly. Mystical Rain; shine your light in my path. Mystical Rain warm my heart; make me laugh. Editing by Lindsay Laurie
Timeless beauty to behold Wisdom, glory, sights untold Mountains crowning into crystal skies White clouds floating gently by Soft breeze blowing, caressing leaves Whispered nothings to the trees Evening's shadow begins to dance In hidden corners, a stolen glance Scents so strong and warm and true Mingling sweet, the earth's perfume Filling body, soul, and mind Misty memories of another time A time which can't quite be recalled Yet forever lingers through it all Water trickling over rocks Mind at ease, all worry stops Wrapped in comfort's warm embrace Abounding, peaceful, calm and grace Nature's beauty filled with song A tranquil scene to dwell upon
Calamities, man made or other when or wherever they occur is nature's own way to point out to us mankind, without any doubt that we should not quite tinker with nature's basic structure. Victims, the ordinary, always fear to face nature's wrath and spear they need to be empowered quickly by sharing nature's sovereign equally together we can ward off a grim future and recognizing that supreme is nature.
I thank you all for allowing me An astutely marvelous opportunity To spark synopses atriums And bounce ideas from craniums That is the mattress under lights Where rocket ships prepare for flight They launch for space in peaceful moods And head for bulbs of orbing moons Like moths that orbit thought balloons
In a Cocoon Away a butterfly had flown, After it was found fully grown; Then into air and away it went; From God to us he had been sent. Would fly around flowers everyday; Back home he always knew the way; Saw much beauty in each wing; Happiness to all he did bring. For my friend, I do have a fear Because I know by end of year, We will never see him again; In a cocoon, another does begin. firstname.lastname@example.com
300 circles of Sudbury lakes looping and winding in all different makes. Rising and falling as crust on a bread, to cooling and stalling when yeast's at a head. Coming in swells of white bubbled zest, to finally receding that drying is left. Warm in the shallows and cool the deep while hugging the wind and sun for heat Sudbury circles; water or ice Sudbury circles; visit us twice
Do you know why the caged bird sings? She sings because of little things; A meal of worms, a bright blue sky, The sounds of freedom ever nigh. Of simple things that set apart; She sings because it's in her heart.
The hawk flies high upon the sky his dinner there to seek. His home the woods along the river- now subdivisions complete. But he's not down because he's found more places yet to dwell. Just look around and you will find a feast that's sweet- I tell. Upon a tree in our back yard he stands- much patience he bestows. Look around, the food abounds, of this he greatly knows. His nest is near, and all is clear that hunting is sublime. Rabbits and quail, doves and mice, plus starlings he yells are mine. In this area of much to choose, the clime is just so right Snow does not quell his daily hunt or his fearless flight. Streetlights are fine to view his space, to observe so neat. When winter comes he will not run. He does not know retreat. For snow and cold he holds no fear, forever on the prowl. His eyes are sharp. He flies high, knowing there's plenty of fowl. He circles the trees gliding high, to descend on what he sees. He knows his strength is in surprise, but proudly sits some trees. He zooms in like a bombardier to birds I daily feed. Now he occasionally finds a squirrel upon to take his need. My little birdies I do love. I hate to see them scatter. Pretty soon I do believe my window they will shatter. The hawk is gold and brown to red, majestic is his stance. He'd better get the squirrels and leave my birds, or we still may dance. They are part of the circle of life, and endangered yet may be. So I will put my slingshot down and not scare them away, you see. Instead I'll watch Darwin's Dance to see who wins the treat. Already the doves get up before dawn- my birdseed so smart to eat. It's quieter then, no hawks in view, they eat peacefully what they see. The hawks are fast, but little birds do know to hide among the trees. My little birds' jump from branch to branch- the hawks are slower here. And when the hawk does come about, the others quickly disappear. But do not count him down and out. The hawk is king you see. Though he still loses from time to time, he's adapted and still is free. And like the smaller little birds, he gets enough to eat. I'm sure he'll be here years to come. He is tough to beat. CSEastman 9-30-2011
It is cold this morning, my breath a cloud of white No snow yet, although it rained a bit last night My path today meanders around the quiet lagoon Enjoying the white of last nights winter moon Far away mountain peaks are iced with snow Faint sunshine gives them an aerie glow Almost every leaf is gone from the old apple tree But there is beauty in the gnarled skeleton I see Coyotes cry from behind the oak topped hill Perhaps they know harder times are coming still There is a stark beauty in this winter face I find a certain kind of peace in this quiet place For The Winter Couplet contest A winter walk....
Far away in time in space Watching blindly from a long dead place Phantom light millennia old Shining through emptiness and endless cold Sparkling as brightly in the night sky As a twinkling tear from an ancient cry Gracing, with diamonds, the celestial sphere Specters of life from far off frontiers
Weightless I happily lie My face brushed by salty air's sigh My vision filled with beautiful blue-white Sacred, ancient, streaming light Floating gently in pure, perfect peace Feeling As if the feeling will never cease My skin caressed by cool damp spray Spiriting my worries and cares away Listening to the melody of shifting swell Enraptured by the blue sea's magical spell The muted sound of nature's refrain Filling my ears with musical champagne
I left California a week ago Sunday. Alone with my map, I found the way. Initial trepidation gave way to wonder. Beauty of the land enhances the spell I'm under. From Novato to Tahoe, the drive was slow. Allowing the remembrance of freeway driving to grow. Expecting Nevada to be a long, boring drive. The high desert vistas permitted my juices to thrive. The interplay of clear blue sky and the light Creating wondrous hues and vistas of pure delight. Drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweeds, A wide-mouth frog carved in the mountainside winked at me. A ribbon of highway stretched across the Salt Flats. Looking more like the desert I expected awhile back. The Great Salt Lake out of nowhere appears Glistening in the sun like a clear, shiny mirror. Turning south in Salt Lake City, a planned detour The Utah rock stars I wanted to explore. The landscape changed as ever higher I climbed. Mesas in the distance of color sublime. Zion and Bryce Canyons... magnificent to behold Paled in significance as Route 12's glories unfold. Each bend and curve created a new scene. From pure, sheer red rock to pine mountains of green. Land of the Anasazi, the Ancient Ones. Lived in Boulder, Utah; an oasis in the sun. The Escalante Grand Staircase is dedicated to them. Feeling their energy as I traveled the rim. Torrey to Moab and Arches Monument Park The formations of red rocks truly touched my heart. Guardians, gatekeepers, animals, angels and more Chiseled in stone that was once the ocean floor. Petrified sand dunes spread before my eyes. A white rolling desert of rock under clear blue skies. Opening again to wondrous chiseled formations. Natural arches and windows of the mountain nations. Treated myself to lunch in the "Eklektica Cafe" Met a young man there who made my day. He gave me the perfect response to "Why Boulder?" Tell them, he said, "I'll let you know when it's over." Touring now behind me. I'm ready to roll Heading full-steam to Colorado; pine and aspen to behold. As I cross the border, I am greeted by a sign. "Welcome to Colorful Colorado. The Trail Through Time." I have come full circle somehow I knew Driving along, I remembered each view. While there is no ocean; rivers and lakes abound. It feels very much like I'm homeward bound.
From planted seeds, trees have grown. My hope, regards this scene, is to remind you of home. Rooted and grounded have the trees come to be. From different forests, though, are both you and me. Yet, like one tree that grows and bares many branches: Rather northward, to the south, eastward, or to the west; And no matter where fruits from a tree are selected. I want you to know we're still connected.
Although my lover's gone, my passion has been reborn Nature takes my breath away; flowers our gardens adorn Wildflowers of brilliant hues were seeded by the state Now their blossoms add beauty to the interstate Hiking five miles to see a New Hampshire waterfall 'Neath its gentle spray on slippery rocks I did crawl A stronger sense of patriotism seems to grow As an eagle flies o'er amber fields of wheat below Forests beckon too, and if you remain very still A clan of deer might appear, giving you quite a thrill But the ocean will transport my mind to fantasy A seafaress dreams of creatures living in the sea When the walls of my house close in, I just step outside To become one with nature, it's here I must reside For when enclosed, it's the beauty of nature I miss The mountains, sea and forests provide a state of bliss *Entry for Deb Wilson's "Passion" contest
They still wander with caution and fear in the remote swamps and grasslands of India and Siberia, and these carnivorous animals are the beautiful tigers. They are trapped, poched, killed and their soft furs are shipped overseas for huge profits, but their sad end is drawing near, unless some caring human really gets involved and acts. Their life span is shorter in their natural habitat, struggling for food and those caged in zoos have a longer life expectancy...they never experience those hunger pangs in early noons. They are an extremely hostile species, ready to devour anything that has flesh and blood. Does anyone wonder why they react so indignantly, don't they fear of being taken and sold? When tigers are attacked, they fight back and killing they prevent their threat of extinction. Do we all realize their animosity for the huntsmen, who chase them and shoot them down? Let's all feel some compassion for them...let's save them and give them freedom and dignity. Let them roam freely as they did once in South Asia, living in full accord with humanity.
"Northward Equinox" (couplet) Northward Equinox starts Equal time of day light and night apart With North pole's six months of day light When the Sun is on same plane as equator, so bright. Dr Ko Ko Thein Salt Lake City.
There are many things that are caught by the naked eye They could be weird or strange or even crazy things that'll make you cry Think my strangest encounter thus far Was a little skunk caught in a snare from my car In underbrush and weeds so high Heard it's whimpers then saw it's final sigh Razor edges wrapped around its head For sure I thought it was dead As I moved in closer to take a peek Its hind back arched and sprayed oh how it reeked Poor little guy I could do nothing for Except call D.N.R and cry once more As they placed it in a steel cage Heard the officer say it was that of young age When do you think one will learn Gods creatures did nothing in return
On bended elbows in the grass, I watched a caterpillar slowly pass. It showed no fear that I was there, and turned its head toward me to stare. A brief encounter before it passed. Two earthlings meeting in the grass.
Have To Die While the world went spinning by I wondered why the sky stayed dry Help environment out, we all should try Even if turning tides may be low or high. Whole world is in disarray everyday; Stars shine brightly in a brilliant display; Heartache has brought on much dismay; Sun still comes up and will go away. Will worry when we have a storm warning, All flowers with beauty are always adorning; My coffee is ready for me each morning; Contemptible people still keep scorning. Skilled writers prepare poems and an anecdote; Time to our true God we do daily devote; When you sing poorly, we grab our throat And if cold outside, we put on warm coat. A bright butterfly will go flittering by; We had to water grass when it was dry; If food is needed, gracious God will supply, Yet, eventually one day, still have to die. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran
Sunlight shines past the fall, Holding maple hearts in thrall. Winter's here and holds on tight, Spring comes for true respite. Thaw comes in many ways, Warming, causing changes through the days. You'll see it here, you'll see it there, It's not commonplace, not everywhere. But through and through as seasons part, You'll see a country's living, beating heart.
Oh; how our lakes; do circle our reach. In circles of puddles beyond our belief. Halting for shorelines that make up their seams; 'till rising above them through rivers and streams. Surrounded by ribbits of green bumpy frogs, all woven through reeds by wet bumpy logs. While sliders of Junebugs will turn in each arc with legs shifting water like fins of a carp. As winds of the water break waves to come in, in meeting the shore in waves that have been. So picture our lakes as healthy and fun where Living With Lakes has just begun.
Has a cold sad heart, Winding down like a clock with its parts, The days and years are shorter, They would be longer if he is a courter, Those hearts are lost in winterstorms, Snowflakes falling into nothingness that mourn, With trees that follow with their permanent shades, Killing hearts slowly with branches that are blades, Those weary souls that cry at night, Trapped in hell by hearts that never see light, And when that love door is opened wide, Hearts will mingle and walk with stride, They pet and pet love set free, Comforting under bright hot suns colossally, That love that stare's in the face, Will make men whole on this earthly place, Pollen blowing through the air, Unleashed by pistols fired everywhere without despair, To depart this world with seeds left behind, A man's lot is love immortal and she is kind.
Adhered to the eaves where house martins hatch Spiders cluster to a weathered straw hatch. American doublet form
The Mockingbird landed 'pon porch rail now my choir In rhythm with cricket, then his jimminey stops _he tires He starts again but quickly Mockingbird is gone Soon the sun's appearance warms surroundings_ground touches on. Porch gets too warm, sunny I have to seek shade Life out on colonade_with singing choir_beauty arrayed In all its glory so simple yet artistry Thank you God for each minute on porch in Lordolatry
You are my SUNSHINE. That, warms my heart. You are the CLOUDS, That, designs my thoughts. You are the BLUE SKIES. That, overshadows my Grey. You are my MOONLIGHT. That, knocks at my heart. You are the GLITTERING STARS. That, I adore every night. You are the NIGHTS. I make love, to you. You are the RAIN DROPS. That, tickles my passions. You are the GENTLE BREEZE. That, caresses my senses. You are the WINDS. That, blows my mind away. You are the LIGHTNING. That, pierces my Heart. You are The THUNDER. That reprimands me. You are DEWDROPS. I, long to kiss; each morning You are the SNOW. That cools my aching heart. You are, the DAYS OF MY LIFE. I grow older, with you. You are MINE, and MINE alone ETERNALLY.
The maidens face, fair and pure The Devils will, sinister and obscure She runs gracefully among the oleanders through the glade Deep below, evil lurks, above light begins to fade Darkness stretches across the land, spurring the young lady's imagination Rushing to the surface, Satan hides behind her nervous elation Devious thoughts of goblins and witches dance through her mind He feeds off of the desires and urges that tempt human kind She falls asleep under a great oak tree, intoxicated by her vivid dreams In her slumber he speaks to her, gently whispering "Not everything is as it seems." Springing to her feet she sprints back through the trees Silently he watches her as she flees
When leaves have fallen to the ground, The time for winter is around. It's time for birds to fly away To warmer lands where they will stay, 'Til gone is winter's icy blast, And spring is here again at last. In springtime all the flowers bloom, And people spring-clean with a broom. Fawns are born and bears awake, And rain again fills up the lake. The smell of the air is fresh and sweet, And the baby birds give a small "tweet, tweet." When summer's come and spring is gone, The skies are clear at morning's dawn. The days are hot, the lake is cold, Yet swimming each day never does grow old. As fireflies light up the night, The starry sky is quite a sight. The leaves are now red, orange and brown, As to the ground they soon fall down. This is a sign that fall is here, But yet the weather is not drear. A chill tell bears it's time to sleep, As farmers finish their harvest reap. The Season Circle is now complete, As winter once again we greet.
Tonight is the full moon, through the clouds it's blazing bright, And from the tingle I feel in my bones, it'll be quite a night; It's the one night a month that the moon has control, I can feel it in my being, all the way to my soul; The sway the moon holds over me, is calling out in victory, I can feel it now I'm letting go, soon the monster will be free; Just one night a month the beast can roam, And it's the one night a month that I never come home; The brute takes over my body and will, And destroys everything with deadly skill; All I can do is sit back for the ride, All conscious thoughts are trapped inside; So many times I've tried to get out, But I can't even do so much as a shout; When the demon inside me once again is at large, Beware to you all, because I'm not in charge!
Fire ants! Fire ants! All over my yard! Fire ants! Fire ants! Why do you try so hard? There are little hills of demons all over my land Filled with the little critters that I just can't stand! The sting and they bite and leave scars on me. The have even killed my very favorite tree! Fire ants! Fire ants! Are making me so mad! Fire ants! Fire ants! Where's that can of diesel I had? I will be diggin' in a flower bed when suddenly Those darn fire ants are swarming all over me! I run to turn on the water and grab the water hose So I can wash away the fire burning under my clothes! Fire ants! Fire ants! Taking over Texas! Fire ants! Fire ants! Meaner than my exes! One of these days, I will manage to eradicatecate Just as soon as someone improved fire ant bait My land will then have a fire ant sign Saying stay off of my property, it is mine! Fire ants! Fire ants! Making evil mounds! Fire ants! Fire ants! If you got 'em, trouble abounds!
The foliage resembles you more than me, As I hold you under this sycamore tree, Your vibrant smile dims out the countless shades, Your ocean filled eyes makes all else fade, Just like the fire place inside that is burning, My heart is a flame that is constantly yearning, If God knows every sparrow that falls from the sky, Then he must know that this is the perfect day for you and I, As the leaves quietly dance around your porcelain face, I long to have more than just a seasonal taste, Suddenly, as the breeze picks up in pace, On one knee I proclaim my love in this place. By: sabina nicole contest falling in love in the fall written: 9/23/11
I have lived this world nigh on fifty years But day after day, through my eyes I see are fears The fears are upon my shoulders, they encompass me If we all looked through my eyes it's not difficult to see The fear of our planet dying, the present don't seem to care Through my eyes I see, in desperation stare Species that abound around us, are entitled like us to thrive Yet day after day, through my eyes they struggle to survive Then there are us, intelligent we are assumed to be Not through my eyes, I still see us in their trees http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-16.php
A VIP while making pee looks like a not-quite VIP. Volodymyr Knyr 2014
If i was a Rook, a Raven or Crow With tattered wings in thermal flow In murder fly we soar with the streams Being a creature of nature a living dream A delight to many, to farmers a pest Culled, what for, their greediness zest All that we do is what you do for We increase our knowledge and the right to explore If i was a Rook, a Raven or Crow Us passerine of black, we are passerine grow Raul of Haiku royalty, this is for you http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-8.php
"Served and protected by Natures blessings" Perched upon the rocks, chapel sits so proud. No sermons delivered, though honored so loud. Ocean surrounded, doves perched on steeple. Singing sweet hymns instead of people, They serve another congregation you see. Seagulls approach near chapel of the sea. Other creatures from below swim around. Securing charisma of belief abound. Heaven shines down upon chapel in light. Beacon from lighthouse shines within night, Glorifying abundantly, love, peace and harmony, Doves singing chorus heard as an odyssey. Untouched by human subversion in decades, Starlight Angels stand watch in guardian parades. written by Cecil Hickman written for Sponsor Constance ~ My Dear Heart ~ Contest Name The Church By The Ocean Date written 09/30/2011
The blue burst forth upon the trees with the kind of glow heat lightning leaves The paper wasps and moths agree to incense dust the coral seas As the velvet wonders drowsy yawn the nightingale begins her song They all perform this grand charade to quell the summer's heat tirade The fascination of the breeze leaves rings of kohl on all the trees and autumn exhales all it's zest to bring the earth to her winter rest.
nectar gathered by buzzing bees cherry blossoms like popcorn trees busy eyes suntan bikini pose love breeze flows Spring shows lovers move fast moments stall chasing breath country clocks crawl
A rifle is not the weapon of choice this year I am not here to try to shoot a deer My eyes, my ears, my camera are the tools I take My desire is to discover incredible shots to make Sunrise's yellows, blues, and pinks burst into view Spiderwebs, intricately woven, outlined by dew Hoar frost's icy fingers grasping clumps of weeds Sumac is naked except for russet heads of seeds Tall pines in the wind, glistening in the sun Chipmunk crossing the road fast as he could run Mushrooms with bright orange domes by the road Autumn in all her glory, her fiery finery I do behold Berries-purple, red and black in the forest bright Quartz crystals shimmering pinks and white I watch a hawk soar easily on the updrafting wind The most amazing sight of all comes at day's end To camp we go as the sun sinks slowly in the west My camera catches scenes of the view I like best Sunset changes her attire as we make our way Crimson blazes to twilight hazes ends this day
The sun persuaded the earth to move and slip, slip, slip from her summer groove as we climbed to the top of the autumn trees and swayed with the sway of the orange breeze He held in his hand a bouquet of leaves all crackled in crimson he gave them to me Their scent lingers still on nostalgia's page for I laid them to rest, as the season's sage...
Sun shinning cool breeze river water. Lake glass underneath shaded trees swimming otter. Wondering if the fish is ever to going bite. Line in water with a non floating bobber gripping just right. Bait on tight waiting impatiently. Wishing for a strike from the greatest of Kings. Soon will be a battle between me and fish. Experiences will tell when I eat that salmon dish.
Baal Written by Catherine Reinke Ancient sources tell us of one old God forbidden from all others, Yahweh declared he, from the sun, named him Baal. His ceremony enticement many could not resist, believe one God only' certain may this one. Each morning clockwork He would arise feeding nourishment they and plants alive. Not only life give'th He in sun's magnificent glory how few could understand why Yahweh to war went with Baal. Fought in heavens sky for power supreme complete resistance forces fought immense until victory found when Yahweh produced his demon fail. Destruction of our earth, when Yahweh flood waters sent. Save select few , Noah and they in his arch rescue set omnipotent God sail. Declared… drown the followers of the sun! Yet ,rise each morning Baal still won. Today from the watery grave they have risen those who worship all that Baal The Sun has given. Plead we now, no more destruct us for such love condemned to wait return of the arch homeless dove . Mend your rivalry Yahweh with Baal, we pray that in service both, in gratitude and love we may.
By a loch she stands in a hidden Highland Glen Absorbing the view as she marvels at the Ben This granite of old with many stories to tell Of her Clansman's past in the place that they dwell Mountain sides of scree with carpets of heather Look good at all times no matter the weather Proud Stags roam in royalty pose Whilst Golden Eagles soar on breathless air flows Waterfalls thunder as they crash to the rocks Sheep roam the hillsides in grazing flocks Trout break the surface of translucent waters so pure Legend has said, that it can indeed cure The colours of the sunsets leave you totally in awe Even the sunrises make the bravest Clansmen thaw Remarkable pastels of orange, reds and blues Bring a tear and a smile, does this most beautiful hue By a loch she stands in a hidden Highland Glen In this most wonderful place, Scotland's her gem http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-2.php
In the hazy, scarlet radiant glow of evenings dusk When the air is filled with the faint allure of musk Before the first stars of twilight begin to shine And a balmy summer breeze feels so divine Amidst the ebony silhouetted branches of a tree Where fluttering birds both wild and truly free Sing passionate songs as they retire for the night And fill the air with intoxicating voices of delight The seduction of a cascade's calming tune Reflecting the first light of the rising moon And the whisper of a soothing murmuring stream A tranquil lullaby and prelude to a dream And as the light surrenders to the stars To galaxies far beyond Sun and Mars The delicate memories of day begin to fade Until slumber overtakes the serenade
Grand Canyon and Giant Gorge Met nature who was trying to forge A giant, great, gargantuan gorge Which to do did take many years And raindrops that appeared like tears. Water ran continuously and rampantly As if sounds of music in a symphony Each instrument with a sound of its own Might be stringed or by one that was blown. When I hear nature her always like to greet Music can be compared to Grand Canyon Suite And will go back to listen to her everyday Can feel her sensations from miles away. James Thomas Horn Retired Soldier www.story-telling-around-the-world.com www.poetrysoup.com
Spring came and were so many showers And seems like sparrows sang for hours Which ended up turning into much rain Drops hitting against my window pane. When a singing sparrow would appear All of her songs I would often hear; Many times fooled around and did fret Searching for wiggly worms until sunset. Baby sparrows were smaller than her And you could never tell for sure What sex could possibly be or were Or male or female which did occur. Even though they leave in the fall No matter what, I still love them all And always know again next spring I can hear them all sweetly, softly sing.
We enjoyed our walk below the autumn skies Golden browns bloomed and graced our eyes Hand in hand, through woods and fields Marvelling at nature, and in what she yields Darkness loomed on this late September afternoon Clouds above massed, in impending monsoon Slowly the rains fell from the skies As the clouds opened in plentiful supply I turned to my girl and she was on her knees Her summer white dress in see through please These autumn rains showed a lovely change in her As she looked to the skies in delightful purr Her wetted face had a glint in her eyes As i kneeled before her, and her purr like cries Our faces met, and our lips greet In continual excite, repeat repeat Sodden we are under this cascade of wet This is one afternoon i will never forget http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-8.php
Hopping and skipping and jumping in snow Out to have fun on this day we now go All through the night did the snow fall on down Falling to cover all parts of the ground Falling on down from the sky without care Spinning and twirling through crisp winter air To cover the ground in the blankets of white To treat us in morn to a beautiful sight
There's an interpretation of the skies that the end of wonderment belies. Keep flying on the perfect cloud where being awestruck is allowed. Fill up with joy and let it last for soldiering on is in the past. If you just gaze around this earth you'll realize it's simple worth. Just look at all the wondrous things that living in this splendor brings. Riches are many for you to seek in a painted landscape at it's peak. A salty tide cut through the sand or mountains looming across the land. Cooling trees in silhouette and other wonders not seen yet. So when your heart is in the dark just listen to the singing lark. And when your soul can get no rest let the earth do what it does best.
I lay down my head on a falling of leaves in your gardens' bed in sight of your eaves where wind's woods plays scattering the leaves in different ways (we are the same – differing only in sight and name)
The meadow's breath a gift to all, the misty mornings' dew, a silent sigh, a heartfelt call, a prayer to me and you. So green and warm, and full of life, the forest skirt and the maids' delight. There rabbits dwell in lovers' dells;A gauze filled dream in morning light. So gold and bright, and full of life, the forests skirt and Knights delight; The Dame and doe do lie, 'pon hillocks high, where lovers sleep with passion's cry. So white and fair, yet full of life, the forests' skirt of pearly white; Where burrowers sleep in bowers deep, and hearths light on winter nights. The meadow's breath a gift to all, the misty morning's dew; A silent sigh, a heartfelt call, aA prayer to me and you. Now, no green bloom, no home for them, the builders-men once more; to take the glen and make man's homes, no deer will roam fourscore. A meadow's a home to many things, to bold butterflies and birds on wing, Yet, few can dwell where men reside if forest's skirt, gives way to tide. The meadow's breadth a gift to all, from sea to shining sea America, a heartfelt call, a prayer to you and me.
Darkness hovers over this tree, The chains of bondage deceive thee, Oh shake them off through each new breeze, The devils grin can't hold these leaves, Beneath the bark nourishing sap does lie, The sweetest taste awaits its sky, Just shake them off through each new breeze, The devils grin can't hold these leaves. By: Sabina Nicole contest: secondhand emotion
Caution furry yellow legs While the open flower begs ~ A sweet nectar offering moistened by warm spring ~ Showers hot morning sunshine Uplifted pedals smiling wine ~ Steeping perfumes colors glowing brightly Brown yellow calves raise stepping lightly ~ Treading ever so softly tap step tap Waltzing he takes the lead snaps the trap ~ With stinger drawn caution in the wrong place Will not get you out of a winking death's face
Valley of the river Clyde seventeen hands, the load heavy and wide Bound and strapped with a purpose for life versatility quite graceful, chestnut and white A tower so agile, a strength undenied a dream once fading, the fight now revived........................
Perched upon feathery gems Above the earth, above the elms Thy slanted rays lolling amidst The emerald leaves cloaked by mist Thy indolent careen, thy waltz of sky Slows the time as it glides by... Sullen straps of the mighty night Now approach to ignite a fight Thy power emerges, a sword aflame A fierce battle now became The night prevails, its stars aglow It takes thy place, your frailty bestows You descend the clouds, you penetrate Now thy struggle, thy will to retaliate Shall await dawn,,,
Standing there, silently, on that hill, With head raised, I stood still. Watching white clouds pass over me, Moving steadily and just letting me be. Drawing me into the endless beauty I saw, Inspiring me to view the bees, in awe. Bees that moved, so freely, in the air; A brief encounter, yet, I saw them there. It was so enchanting to watch them pass, Such a memory that will always last. Oh how very small, inevitably they were, Yet, eagerly they went to quietly serve. Carried by just a soothing, soft breeze, Proving much more than the eye could see. A mysterious force which took those bees, To many places like floating light leaves. Those lovely leaves that return each year, A welcoming visit that's always kept dear. So enriched I felt, standing on that hill, Oh-yes, I am glad that I stood still.
Stillness, quiet, cool Morn where roosters rule Not a cricket's cheer Only a Purple Finch near A clear yellow sun Up high so very soon The Mockingbird sings Joy his lover brings Gratitude for porch Early morn not scorch Eastward facing wait For day's coming fate_
In the freezes of the winter sunny-sets. Brown icy lake then the sky turns Burnett. As the birds walk on ice underneith the hanging pecan trees. Looking for nuts, shelter., for comfort from the winter freeze.
I love to watch the westering sun As it ripples the clouds as day's begun When the air is motionless in the trees Displaying the glory of dusky leaves
Are ancient domesticated cats from an Arabic land Is it where they came from, as history understands But this is not so, they lived and graced For in Cyprus was found, a skeleton in place Egypt was favourite, until that burial place was found Interned with its master, on Mediterranean ground They evolved from wildcats in Africa at large Five self-domesticating, in evolutionary charge So the cats you see today, came from them All coloured so different, every single one a gem My entry into Constance's " Cat Tails " contest http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-4.php
With muse in hand How do I make one understand I love colors of shaded green Does not make me nasty or mean For it's in our lakes And even in things that we bake It 's canvass for our trees Even sometimes stains on our knees There's hues of bladed grass Where we have all plop our ass Even passing clouds Looking purified and aloud So here I'll stand and raise a toast To the color green on money who everyone loves the most
A risk taker is an adventurer, a taster of the fresh dew; never satisfied until he has found that something so new. Celestial bodies are clearly seen on a starless and mild night, when the grayish sky invites a painter to invent his own light. So fly up and glide over your extraordinary planet, and finally discover what poets and dreamers only imagine to exist in their passionate gesture. The unmitigated impudence of this season has already brought its first, despised pang; changing emerald leaves to dull auburn, reminding me of the briefness of life's span. Can't find any excitement in the boring ways that spoil your day and make you sluggish? Try flying up and glide over this planet's panorama that can grant the spectator's wish. Earth-bound with that satiated feeling, departing from a glorious view and a gibbous moon; glad to land on a snowless ground, too anxious to send up, on drifting winds, my red balloon.
On a hillside in a pasture of green Taking in all the beauty sometimes never seen In the distance the sun starts to sink Pausing for a moment of reflection, quiet time to think Atop her stallion of black and white She looks at the moon lending its light A sense of freedom as she glides through the misty night air Feeling the cool breeze flowing through her hair Her stallion guides her safely home But in her heart, through the pasture, she will always roam Copyright © 2003 Shari E Davis
Humble,bumble bee One season's life,fly free Working the summer scene Unless crowned,as May Queen Sometime cousin cuckoo,comes to stay Her offspring eggs to lay A nursemaid,then,Spring to Fall 'Til Winter's death knell,calls
Eleven days before Christmas, as we were singing, " A Child Is Born"... fluffy snowflakes came down and they were as big as white popcorn. Surprised mom yelled, " Run to the window, they are more beautiful than snow flowers and daises... " Go, catch some into your warm hands and dream of Bethlehem's stars!" Astonished as those shepherds watching their sheep under the starriest sky, we saw pretty snowflakes not a wondrous star followed by the three Magi. They kept on falling and floating like dry leaves on a December's cold evening... when carols were played on a church organ that was taller than any ceiling. Merrier than angels announcing Christ's birth, we stared at His bright stable... and what we felt was the humbleness of a King whose love was so ample. Once again, we ran back to the snow-dusted window and looked into the quite sky, among the gleaming snowflakes: a golden child appeared asking for a happy lullaby. Entered in Francine Robert's contest, " A Winter Couplet " My theme: First Snowfall
Leo the Mighty Lion stalks the starry sky As Orion the Great Hunter aims an arrow at his eye. A battle splayed among the stars To the world's farthest fars. A big bear helps a little one cross the Milky Way. Taurus fights a Red Dwarf, what more can I say? Cancer keeps on waiting for the ocean's tide As Aries is running for a place to hide... From Draco's mighty fire seen from here on earth. It shows the other stars who has ruled from birth. And Leo the Mighty Lion pounces in the sky As Orion the Great Hunter lets his arrow fly.
Hidden among the foliage of the giant spruce trees High amidst the branches where nobody sees Dwells lively little faeries of the dappled forest scene Dancing in the sunlight and the deep and leafy green Entire faerie gardens filled with hope and peace Dancing in the shadows and flowers so cerise Following the dirt roads to a place that's so serene To the crossing of the rainbow to places yet unseen Conjuring up their magic to make wishes all come true As they dance and run and flitter in colors they imbue Blowing wonderous spells in bubbles far and wide Being ever ready to be with you at your side
Two postures I view on this wonderful night She, with porcelain skin, amidst lunar moonlight Arched she is, hair in delightful drape Whilst the evening breeze entices pert her shape Silky stockings allure, my eyes in wanting caress Red Rose lips to kiss, upon each other impressed Touching, tasting we silhouette against her bright Hands in wandering roam, amidst her lunar moonlight http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-19.php
rivers,rivers stream my mind spring forth images,to find rivers,rivers tribute sing brooks,babbling,bubbling bring rivers,rivers scenes of strife healing waters of life rivers,rivers follow me ebbing,slowly to the sea rivers,rivers carry me into realms of poetry This poem was the inspiration for my latest contest. Willam James coined the title phrase as he thought every definite image of the mind is steeped in the'free' water flow around it.
Mockingbird Milling Around Had heard a mockingbird milling around Who was making such a melodious sound; Looked line one I had seen in a library book And had been beside a beautiful brook. A while for him would often have waited And seemed so sleepy like he was sedated Before bursting forth with an abundant sound Which was enough to make your heart pound. Can you imagine mockingbird in a library Maybe it actually might be a canary Who loved singing such a splendid song And even continue to do it all day long. No one would I ever want to offend But think they are starting a new trend; No matter how bad wind had been blowing Near my library great full moon is glowing. James Serious Mysterious Horn Retired Veteran Continuation of poems for a library series.
" The Skunk and The Porcupine ... " (From The Solomon Studies Series # 9) (Eccl. 3: 11 / Prov. 6: 6 / Matt. 6: 26, 28, 29) The Skunk and The Porcupine Both Are 'So Cute' Little Creatures The Skunk and The Porcupine Both Have Protective, Projective Features The Skunk and The Porcupine Both Scuttle By Like Small, Inquisitive Seekers The Skunk and The Porcupine Both Have Effective - Weapon Reachers Tho' One Has Its Own Swords of Battle Quills The Other Has A Gas-Arsenal of Biological Spills We Walk Around Them Like We're On A Mine Field and Either - Both Can Make Us Run For The Hills! ... Tho' One's A Prickly Recluse and One's A Reeker Man & Beast Give Them Room (like they're both lil' stinkers) In A Way, We Bow To Both Like They're Little Caesars Both - Show GOD's Ability To Endow Combat Ready Teachers The Skunk and The Porcupine Without Saying A Word - They Are Loud Speakers And Now Thank GOD & Be Glad Your DNA Is Neither ... The Skunk and The Porcupine Written & Copyrighted ©: 1/8/2014 by: MoonBee Canady
I stare into the dark abyss Midnight ice; a wicked hiss Wading through the solemn storm Deepest depression takes its form Shattered promises and lost dreams Happiness torn apart at its seams Phantoms dance gleefully in the hail They knew that your life would derail Was it not they who hid in your mind? Whispering their assurances, all will be fine Perhaps today this wasn't the case Hot salty tears trail down your face An answer to the winter wind Leaving fear with those who've sinned Enveloped finally by sweet surrender Inside fades a dull ember Giving in, succumbing to midnight entrapment Heaviness descends, of course... nothing can happen
You left me kissing the ocean, Never constant, changing fast. I looked into the mirror this morning, Blue, like the ocean, wide and vast, But cracked like an addict, A sailboat, a young bone, Yet strong as deep roots, And cursed: Forever Alone
1.Keep- house co-operates father, mother wife, performing goodness. 2.Keep-house helps those hermits poor and deceased. 3.House-keep owes to five customs of charity. 4.Reputed earnings relish life while consuming united. 5.Principle of family-life is love and charity. 6.Evading charity in family-life what thy gain? 7.Executing charity in family-life supreme among others. 8.Encouraging others adopting charity excels saint's prayer. 9.Charity is family-life besides exonerated presumed unique. 10.Living worldly life regarded dweller of heaven. ----------------------------------------------------- Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31 B.C), the author in Tamil Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU, INDIA Published in poetrysoup.com on 3-12-13
Beautiful insect cupped in my hands, Released to the air to fly over lands, Assured that keeping you would speed your death, You were released, I held my breath. Gently above me then floating away, Orange glow from my hands deeply allays. Within moments of a lifetime, brush cut, Feelings replaced by a punch to the gut, Knowing its future like being aware My shadow follows someone else's dare. Insanity is sadness for thoughts of Others better care of the one you love.
Myriads of golden flickering leaves dance, Glinting reminders of coming circumstance. Stately spruces preside as they have done before with certain reserve, they know what's in-store. A hearty clear stream, shares stories from on high with any who will listen, as it babbles by. Stands of birch trees closely huddled together, Warmly blanket their feet, determined to weather. Mossy damp scents with forest aromas convey An urgent message to all that snow is on its way. Succulent cranberries and wild blueberries abound, Last minute snacks for hungry bears around. Still there are a great many bare larders to fill, Burrows to protect; from the coming hard chill. Indeed, there is much work so much to prepare, As night prompts morning with moist brisk air. And at full moonrise, in a deep cobalt sky, Wolves will once again recite lonely cries.
Tonight was real and also a dream I was standing by a mountain stream The mountain peaks covered with snow Absorbed the moonlight and seemed to glow The sky was clear and the stars were bright On this cool and crispy winters night From behind the trees you did appear This is why I hold this dream so dear Suddenly time just froze in place As the moonlight illuminated your face You moved with such grace and ease As though you were one with the breeze As you came closer and our eyes did meet My love struck heart found a brand new beat You placed my hands around your waist Then offered your lips for me to taste The only music was that of our souls As we started to dance soft and slow Some things in life are just meant to be As I gave my all to you, you gave your all to me It was magical how everything just felt so right As our bodies steamed in the frosty night There was no thinking ahead or looking behind For we found the moment so few ever find
Dried and Satisfied Woke up this morning and a new day did come Heard birds singing and some who would hum All of them were there for me to finally meet Flowers would smell which seemed so sweet For me by God they had been prepared With each other would be equally shared And as all of the dew had become dried I finally had known that I was satisfied. James Thomas Horn www.poetrysoup.com For me by God they all had been prepared So with others would be equally shared
A chill in the breeze that brushes my soul The smell of lavender as it tickles my nose As a whisper in the trees calls out my name Large boulders standing freely they burden no shame I run to this place where once we stood I find our tree, searching over the wood My memory guiding me, fleeing my pain For a blemish that once was our names All hope hangs upon the sun, it makes no sense Watching for something, some sort of glimpse Haunted by memories of love true and deep Praying you'll answer, "Was I yours to keep?" The night sky settles in and stars are aglow I follow the trail searching for what I don't know The mountain air is bitter cold and clean You may be here though you remain unseen Are you with me in spirit and holding my hand? As the moon fades away I look over the land The storm rages in and the rain starts to pour I cry out, "Just let me hold you once more." To you my Cowboy for all that remains The tears I cry tonight are merely stains I miss you and love you as always before I hope you are waiting for me at Heaven's door. Copyright © 2009 Lena "Lolita" Townsend
Each morning she feeds the birds, Bright and early without a word. She loves her little creatures, Once I even took some pictures. She was gently holding one, As if it was her very own. She even talks openly to them, While they sit, listening on limbs. Some will gather around her feet, For her voice sounds so sweet. Her face lights up, brightly, While she walks so lightly; Through many beautiful birds, That now, has gathered in a herd - To greet this fine, gentle lady, That has a breakfast all ready; For her fine, feathered friends, Seeing them always makes her grin; And for her they will, gladly sing, Sweetly, like a lovely gale wind.
Watching the snow falling outside, Through the white drifts a lone deer glides. Under the grove of laden trees, she stops, Stretches her neck, for leaves to crop. Someone spooks her and off she goes, Leaving footprints in the blanket of snow. A lone chickadee lands on my deck, From the seeds there, she starts to peck. If not for God's creatures, some great, some small, I would not appreciate this winter weather at all. As inconvenient as this winter snow can be It still has it's beautiful moments for all to see. *it's snowing like mad today, so my visitors this afternoon took some of the annoyance out of it.
GOING HOME The light has journeyed it seems Instantly to earth's vast looking-glass Of oceans with their currents as they pass. It has bent back towards the Sun And started on its homeward run, Streaming home on beams ……………………………. NOTE The last line is stolen barefaced from Deb's wonderful work. It just drew me to it and I wanted so much to use it. If plagiarism is to be pursued in the courts, bring it on !
Open my senses and pour into me all of the things that cause me to feel ecstasy Summer nights that are filled with torrential rain Watching a horse run while waving its long mane A thunderstorm that echoes through the distant land The piano playing something new and deliciously grand A magnificent sunset on an open field The crisp fall air in November that makes my soul yield Gloomy days that I like to hide inside An extended car drive with no destination in which to arrive Colorful leaves dancing in the wind while on a long hilly hike Open Dirt roads with a newly painted bike Boat rides that go far out to sea Fresh waves that crash against me Mornings after a heavy snow When no one has touched it and the snow still has its glow The smell of a person's clothes that I like or love When I am having a bad day and I turn and see a white dove. By: Sabina Nicole contest: what turns me on
Tall Trees and Happy Hummingbird Sure is sad seeing them cut down trees; Keep them there I beg, would you please As into clear sky they continue to extend Chills up my spine still tall trees do send. When wind through trees so softly blows Forever and ever they continue to grow On trees, sun rises and then soon does set Occasionally when raining they will get wet. Early or late, tree shadows can sharply see Great comfort to my soul they are to me; Guess what!!! My thoughts were transferred And am saying hi to a happy hummingbird. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran PS. You can send this out to whoever you like and hope they like it.
On the brown lawn,yellowed leaves putrefy Temporatures die as daylight hours fly. American doublet form
Finding an image to focus on My mind lifts my soul with song Simple... my perceptions changing Negative vibes rearranging.... Yellow daffodils spring to mind So early a blossom, winter shines~ Sweet and hollow its trumpet appears Soaking up sunshine as snow disappears Crisp and bold flawless in scheme Long winter's magical dream Blossom Daffodil all around my lawn Adamantly filling the crisp damp dawn Boldly obvious blossoms in snow Complicates winter with her glow Daffodil arrivs at winters' end Offering hope to a despairing friend
A sweet Little Worm crawls silently through the dirt. Where has the light gone? I have no worth. Feeling dense and dark, the worm surrenders its life. What's the use of living when there is no light? Coiled unto herself, Little Worm falls fast asleep. Unwilling to feel the dung of this compost heap. Surrendering to the dark night is the worm's only thought. Eyes closed to her world, allowing all thinking to stop. Asleep in the black tunnel, Little Worm dreams of the light, Rising sun soaks through her skin; the heating pad of delight. Dreamtime expands into an unknown inner glow. Fiery furnace melts the frozen core as her heartfire grows, A safety net surrounds Little Worm like a web of security. Encasing her now in a gentle comforter, woven of purity. Spreading a delicate balance while dusk and dawn merge Cocooning Little Worm as she sleeps, enabling fears to purge. Little Worm awakens with alarm; something isn't right? I'm smothering in this security blanket, and I'm feeling fright. Little Worm gives a strong kick to break free; it is a flap. She pushes with all her might; a flutter falls quite flat. Flap and flutter; flutter and flap; frantic movements all. Still I'll try and try until I'm free of this blanketed wall. All the flaps and flutters create a crack in the shell. Her lungs fill up with sweet, moist air; Ah, now all is well. These flaps and flutters feel different; actually, quite strange. Appendages like angel wings now provide a vast new range. Relief saturates Little Worm like a sponge lying in sweet gentle rain, As she arises from the clammy, wet compost heap without any pain. Slowly, tentatively, Little Worm gazes into the ocean of blue above. Excited flapping and fluttering soon lifts her from the muck Soaring now into the dewy spring of a fresh blossoming birth, Little Worm acknowledges the need for the dark night to occur. Flying freely now with the emerging glow of true freedom's ring, Accepting this new power contained within surrendered feelings, She's enchanted with her new life, although she's not sure who she is. Surrendered suffering has created this new day of pure joy and bliss.
the slow snail the fast fly now taunts, his flight speed he boastfully flaunts, so he zips and zaps low and high, in a spider's web doomed to die. to each his time, to each his pace, there really is no rigid race, you sprint your way and I crawl mine, there really is no finish line !
It's that time before Winter and all through the yard run pathways of petals all beautifully charred. An assortment of heartwarming hues can be seen: deep reds and bright yellows and shades in between. How my innocent heart beats with hummingbird pleasure at the sight of these wonderful bundles of treasure! So I say to myself while my heart is a thumping, "No time shall be wasted, these leaves are for jumping!" To the largest collection of colors I race, with laughter aplenty, the wind in my face and the sun at my back, pushing me with its rays, as I spring into Fall without looking both ways. I land soft in the pile that the season provides, as if leaping in laundry just recently dried, and upon my resurfacing what should I see but the base of what seems like a beanstalk to me. I look up at the plant and think Jack would be proud to descend such a towering tree from the clouds. Though it's lacking its leaves, looking lonely and bare, I just can't help but smile as I harmlessly stare at what once was full green, so I shout out "hooray," giving thanks to the trees on this cool autumn day. To you children at play, be your yards big or small, Happy Leaf Leaping, friends, and to all a good Fall!
Rippled ribbons of wavy sand Caressed and created by the oceans hand Salted wisps of fragrant air Stirring my nose and tickling my hair Bellowing sounds of the breaking tides The ever-changeable textures on a shell on both sides Inspired by Deborah Guzzi's contest five senses / five elements
3rd march 2012, by: Sashi Prabhu (zeauoxian) Lying between two coconuts trees, On a swinging ham mock feeling sultry breeze. Waves erupt repeatedly on the hibernating sandy shores, The moonlight now festoons the sand and sea with milky Lumina galore. The coconut trees foliage houses my shack beneath, Is grimly laden with dew drops , the wetness it drips within. My pals with whiskey, rum and beer are laden within, Singing songs of love, sorrow, happiness, friendship and topic akin. The stone electric pole sheds fluorescent light, Making the ambience great and the vista very bright. Into the night, eat smoke and drink, Our confined and harnessed sorrows we will drive out from our body's brink.
Dark and lean she spins her web preparing for her prey. Intelligent and diligent she works both night and day. She is by no means evil, for this is all she knows. A genetic trait passed down to her and so the story goes. When her work is done she will get ready for her scheme. To lure her helpless victim in her well constructed gleam. A tattoo on her stomach, he stops to take a glance. Her beauty and her mind combined, he doesn't stand a chance. He goes in to get a closer look not knowing what's in store. She has her victim now and when they're done needs him no more. He never knew what hit him for she won't suffer him his pride. Her mission is accomplished, and her legacy's inside.
STEPPING OUT Stepped out this morning after many torrid days. Stillness and dreeping dampness met my gaze. Trees above thankful for the welcome swallow. I too breathed deep a welcome here below.
driving the highway the other day past buttercups on the median way and rows of corn on the other side a beautiful sight for noontime ride my dreaming mind started to wonder a cornucopia of crops golden color as buttercups rose into the air and crossed the lanes without a care to drip onto the corn so buttery a pleasant dream feeding absurdity still the taste imaged on my tongue with a bit of salt and pepper clung to bright yellow kernels of my mind a noontime fantasy tastefully defined © Goode Guy 2011-06-24 not too much salt...
Whispering tinkles speak to my soul so clear. Curving styles go past as I watch so sincere. Restful unbroken missions set my spirit free. Rolling scents accentuate emotions in me. Scenes such as these are my haven from pains. Emerging sprays from graceful heavenly rains. Pouring down gently they separate the current, In such a stylish way this halts any kind of torrent. This stream that I call natures blessing these days, Has a sanctification of its own in so many ways. As if God has given consent for a miracle of peace. To which has been shared with me in special release. In dedication of the honor that I have to share with you, Praising nature that he gave to me and everyone else too, I write about my precious secret stream for all to know. Revealing its location is to allow one and all to go. Though there is not any one location that you can find. There are many secret places where one may go to unwind. All the wonders of nature drift along any brook or stream. Anyone just has to take the time to find their own dream. Written by Cecil Hickman Date written 09/22/2011 Written for Sponsor Francine Roberts Contest Name Flowing water
From where I stand the view I see Two deaths I witness in front of me Seeing such a sight makes me internally cry For come tomorrow, we'll have a moonless sky Her life is now spent like a nearby tree In death like us they are now finally free In skeletal stance so naked and bare It's richness drained, all I can do is stare What awaits as a new day dawns For into the evening we go, now earth is withdrawn http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-19.php
I left Friday midmorning for a weekend getaway A four-hour jaunt to Aspen; just wanted to play No purpose for the trip; just for the experience New to Colorado, I desired to feel its sense. If you would care to come along with me, Continue reading and hear my song of glee. As I turned onto the road to Idaho Springs My heart leaped and I began to gently sing. What is it about a mountain stream That takes away thought and brings back the dream? What is it about the pine trees growing so tall Straight up from sheer rocks with no soil at all? What is it about driving higher and higher into the sky Being able to look the mountain top right in the eye? What is it about the sudden appearance of a mountain lake That takes my breath away and causes me to shake? What is it about the snow-covered peak standing guard Over the bosom of its canyon now filled with cars? What is it about blue ice on the high mountain creek That takes away all the words that I wish to speak? What is it about seeing the Arkansas River in high Colorado? Perhaps realizing the connectivity of water's everlasting flow. What is it about seeing a train moving through the mountain forest That reminds me of all the pioneers and natives who came before us? What is it about seeing a giant dove in a cloud formation When I am only twenty-two miles from my destination? Feeling the oneness of earth, man, and sky as I drive, Just what is it that now makes me heave a big sigh? It is the road sign that says, "Indy Pass closed for the winter" Can you hear the screeching howl of my whine and my whimper? Taking a deep breath, I turn slowly around; there's no other choice. Retracing 100 miles now with a noticeably different voice. The road now becomes the coiling serpent of asphalt For I have lost my serenity and centered gestalt. The roadside streams are just more water that flows. Why was the road closed, there isn't even any snow? Finally my humor returns as I enter the Glenwood Canyon. How could I not be happy viewing this majestic companion? Wearily, now I limp into Aspen at just after dusk. Navigating the rotary is an exercise in trust. All worth it, I must say as I drive into the town White lights twinkling their greetings to me all around. Found my hotel easily. The room is grand; I shall not moan Over a little misadventure I can share with those back home.
The weeping willow sways and dips to skim the lake in a summer kiss and fish respond from down below to catch a sun beam ~Off they go in colors grey and silver gold~ From gills of bliss a bubble blows... And on the surface flowers shine and move to touch their skin to mine The breeze, she plays upon my hair as bee's their daisy pollen wear. My lips a smile to teeth do meet as lids close their eyes to a wink discreet The sun, a warm lizard skin to the clouds settles on us. I breathe to the summer sounds and weep in the way that humans do alone in Nature's rendezvous.
A bevy of gulls in a sea-fowl cloud In fellowship,squabble,whispering loud. An American doublet
It's my favorite color and I reckon it's true It goes very well with all I've been through For I have embraced the bluest of days Brought upon myself by the darkest of ways They say that my eyes are as blue as the sky Especially when their tired from the tears that I cry When I first glanced at Lake Tahoe for heavens sake I thought, "Nothing on Earth is as blue as this Lake" Blue as the sky or so it would seem I found sobriety and answered a dream I remember I cried the day that I heard the news No longer would Stevie Ray be playing the blues Blue is a color but know it's also an emotion When I was in Hawaii it was the color of the Ocean See, blue is more than a color it's part of our soul For folks at the fair it's their number one goal Sweetheart even this love that I hold for you Can best be described by the words "True Blue". Inspired by the COLOR contest and of course it was penned for my wife.
Those evenings spent on the inlet bay When seven swans would sail my way I'd walk on the deck with bags of bread They seemed to know they would be fed From the other side of the inlet they'd come And they'd devour every last crumb So beautiful and graceful too And I had such a perfect view I called them the girls and they knew me I often wondered how they could see So far across that watery space It's almost like they knew my face I'd call to them across the way And they would listen to what I'd say Come drifting over to my back door Like they had many times before I'd tell them all my troubles and then They'd eat and sail away again I do miss seeing those gorgeous creatures With ivory feathers and lovely features It was so peaceful there on the bay When the beautiful swans would swim my way
Presents from the filigree tree out in the back, for you, for me with filtered limbs to lift the air We know it well, I met you there A ring of broken, braided twigs We dined on wine, and cheese and figs and gazed beyond the silver bough out in the back, I feel it now Many a book was read aloud on hazy days, without a cloud We laughed until the flowers fell and graced our brow, we knew it well A thousand stars to sing at night out in the cold, you held me tight with whispered frost upon the air It chills me still, left frozen there But now the filigree tree has died I buried it, and wept and cried for every inch it bloomed and grew resembled love, from me to you. ~or~ There under the filigree tree where memory was lost and found and made and breathed we tethered the sky on a stormy day and lapped up the dew from the metal moon There under belted, velvet boughs we circled the earth and glistened the brow of every moment we left to ignite like a wound to be healed and kept out of sight There we fell to love's embrace a shadowed laugh a winsome face to sew the fabric of our time when I was yours and you were mine...
My friend, I rather not learn to speak In thy tongue that really makes one sick A tongue lovely as early morn rose And deadly like her own prickly toes Note: Inspired by a nasty comment I got For winning the PS Poetry Contest.
The rose grows unbalanced to the right Because she is deprived of light, Water is scarce, but when it can run, The rose soaks it up and leans into the sun, Her thorns are stunted and endearingly tender, Though this means they do not have strength to defend her, Her petals are thin and so easily torn, Such a delicate flower the bush never had borne, But far fairer roses selfishly surround her, And this is how the gardener found her. So pull out her petals so pretty and pale, And break off her prickles so fragile and frail, Then cut off her head and leave her to decay, Tend the wilier roses and just walk away. And as her sap weeps as she withers and rots, The rose is watched smugly by the flowers in their pots, And as she lies dying in darkness on the floor, They turn to the sun and lounge in it some more, And when the rain washes the dead rose away, The flowers are asleep and have nothing to say.
Torrents of melancholy brine cascade from leaden skies; Mirroring the salty streams of tears that seep from my sapphire eyes; Folded limbs of bruised porcelain reach out to feel the patter of the rain; Each stinging drop a tiny shard of ancient liquid pain; Muddied pools form on a thirsty earth that drinks and drinks and drinks; My own parched heart does nothing but watches, waits, and sinks, sinks, sinks… With the monsoon comes a stultifying death of putrefaction to leaf and bough; Matching the decay that stirs the topsoil of my soul like the blade of a rusty plough; Snails drag their curlicue shells through promising forests of lush mossy growth; Just as slow my sighing breaths sift through my lips uttering silent bitter oaths; The monsoon season is a blessing to the earth and a curse to a trapped soul; Bound by adolescent selfishness I think only of myself not of the whole; Forgetting the urgent thirst of the ground for water I curse the curtaining rain; Staring mutinously into the gloomy grey day with my face pressed against a cold window pane; Rain, rain, I murmur through reproachful lips, go away; And please I entreat you -- return again some other day…
Vivid contrasts emanate lively hues from the brilliancy of colors, to radiate skin, hair and eyes; and these are the wishes of all lovers! He's a handsome man in a dark suit well-pressed, and she's a beautiful woman in a scarlet dress; he doesn't like ladies with flashy clothes, and she only likes guys with ripped shirts! Amelia fascinates her partner with her adorable smile, Riccardo's blue eyes see a woman no man can resist; and with his sexy eyes and killer's looks makes his conquest; how exciting she seems and how happy she is to feel alive! Their cheeks occasionally touch as kisses of a soft wind, passion arises, but the dance must end with a standing ovation; they're the only perfect pair who are rehearsing and getting recognition, other dancers are getting impatient and are dying to come in. The violin and piano begin to play in full harmony, " Un Ballo In Maschera," and all the guests come out gracefully to join the masquerade ball without timidity... wearing luxurious and colorful costumes of the legendary Venetian Era; and they elegantly dance on the diamond-shaped floor, trying to gess each other's identity. The chorus adapts a moderato tone as wished by the conductor's baton, as the harmonic tones accompany the high pitched soprano, who suddenly bursts out in a hissy scene; she shouts, "My Riccardo has betrayed me! Take his mask off, and let him see me!" And while the melody is embellished by the harmony, in anguish, she discords her vivid notes. Entered in Brian's Strand contest, " Colours " Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
A blinding wind rescinds my vision of the tundra's rich ruins White-dark obstructing the dark-white frigid dunes Gloves numbly clutching shovel dumbly Lunging for ore or foreign money Turnipbottom dirtpale the truest shade In Siberian vespers all colors fade But each double parka'd sweatdrop bleeds a Bombay summer Tickling, trickling south like my fantasy sojourn Each snowflake calls to mind a pachyderm, a Moment fleeting, dying on terra firma Siberia may not be fain to offer freedom But India will remain my spirit's Eden
Humming Birds My humming bird happens to be annoyed And feeder have found him trying to avoid While one will try to fight off the other Not sure which one is a sister or brother. Competition between humming birds is keen From another can't tell difference between With there sharp beaks pointing and jabbing Is it possible each other they could be stabbing? Spring and summer started turning into fall And I can still hear all of nature trying to call But as the beleaguered feeder I still look upon Humming birds headed south and are all gone. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran
Two pieces meet My worls is complete My path is chosen My past is frozen There is no doubt Everyone else can i do without You is all i need A beautiful flower has grown from our seed
The Tranquil sound of the falling rain As it pitter patters, against our window panes In any season the rains will call Cloudburst or monsoon we welcome its fall Deserts so thirsty, look forward to the day Of natures welcomed rainfall, to re-awaken her display With the rains comes tragedy, life and despair Without the fluid of anew, we would be in barren stare So the next time you look out and view, and say its raining again As it lashes against your window, its just natures champagne http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-7.php
Here in my haven, the Flat Irons in full view A benefit to the loss of leaves as winter ensues. To my left is the bustle of a town in motion. Before me, fire blazes, warming chill's potion. Dragonfly dances in her coppery cloud in the tree Sunlight dazzles and blue sky is what I see. Surrounded by my carefully chosen new delights Comforted by the photo of my family in sight. Boulder isn't cobalt, blue ocean and warm island breeze; But it is all and everything that does seem to please. Adaptability must be my middle name. Wherever I am, I am the same.
Hurry--dawn approaches quickly on soft wings of amber light, arising from the faded remnants of the prior purple night! Gather--all ye creatures of the soil, sky and azure sea, to taste the drops of sunshine that seclude the day from ebony! Revel--in the golden streams that runneth past horizon's edge, bestowing warmth upon the lowest lake and highest mountain ledge! Saunter--drunkenly, intoxicated by the zealous morn: rejoice; the vacant sky burns brightly as another day is born! Savor--every sweetened ray that filters through the clustered trees, descending from its coral cup and trickling down the emerald leaves! Hurry--dawn ascends from darkness, teeming from its garnished grail; enamored by its honey hue, the Sun, we Hail; the Sun, we Hail!
Other Side of the Moon There was a wasp who had become a slob Ended up being dumber than a door knob And I hate to really sound so sarcastic Tried finding food from flowers which were plastic. I found this to be highly entertaining Which to plastic all of this was pertaining Wasp left after he had to look and look And on an airplane a trip he tried to book. Some air tactics are not necessarily fair; They found one recently which was called scare Which wasps always will use on us everyday And end result is it scares everyone away. Was it a wobbly wasp which by would wisp? Who later turned into a lunar ellipse or eclipse And can you imagine a wasp who built a cocoon Which ended up being on other side of the moon. (Brrr!!!)
Heart blooms when any of the starfish light Starfish light when you tell them to light up and they are so pretty but you can't even see them The sky is so dark that you can't even read them The moonbeams now are not in desire and they can't keep holding the same in the fire.
HE LEAVES FOR THE LEAVES Leave work? Then I want to be dazzled by the crop Of fall trees still in full leaf but about to drop As if loaded with flames yellow,and russet That ripple thru leaves , wind-fuelled, sunlit . The little flames are thrown to the river glass, A hard fall, a landing ungainly, crass. Unlike their graceful selves when branch-borne, They fall to the river, meet their reflections and mourn And float ignominiously, and collect their fellows In untidy piles at the slack water shallows Among the faded reeds and river weeds Where ducks scavenged, lunched But there are no longer swallows bunched. A fall from on high is filled with pathos And seeming chaos. End of beauty air-light , and the grief I feel for each fallen golden leaf Matches my joy for the tree. It now survives the all- Too- soon-but-not-quite- yet winter And its killing cold. And produces another Dazzling flame-throwing show next fall.
Amongst the trees I see beautiful things Floating angels with delicate wings Tender warm feeling Feeling is believing
Lovely daffodils, there on the hill The breeze is strong yet you are still Why do you not, in the wind, sway? What brought this sorrow to your day? Has sun not shone its bright complexion? So why has diminished, your direction? It is with joy that I see your glow So tell me please, I must now know. Is there a darkness that I don't see Looming over the hill, daring me? Yet, here you stay, no turn to have As I watch you safely, from this path. Is there a meaning at all to find? Please give me now, peace of mind Or, is it that you're young, not grown And in the wind, you stand below? I shall walk on now and hopefully see What lies ahead… waiting for me But if you know, would you dare tell? Goodbye, sweet flowers, I wish you well.
What A Whipporwill Was For To me the nightness seemed so still Only sound I heard was a single whippoorwill And such a mournful sound it truly was Soft one he makes like he always does. Night's darkness is full of nothing at all Yet still exists that of a whippoorwill call Faintly, fleeting somewhere far away Which does disappear again by next day. Without a whippoorwill what would we do? If God whispered to me and then I knew Saying what a whippoorwill was really for Would ask Him for me to make many more.
In alternating bad attempts; To reach a puddle of regret. A bathing suit of scales he weighs; His mouth a circle of dismay. Flip flop he fumbles back and forth; A feeble wish he will retort. A final honourable sway; A gulping down of water may, Entice a drama too excite, Enough to one more time ignite, A jerk of flesh, elliptic course; Too infantile to sense remorse. To land within a puddles' shallow; Missed the creek, forget the paddle.
Love of nature for earth shines during the splendid springtime. Very rare happiness takes birth. Like an Indian bride decks earth. Spring is the love of the nature. Images of bliss, flowers appear. In the glittering seasons of rain vanishes sun burnt earth's pain. Megh Malhaar(1) the breeze sings And the nimbus' cloud's rolling reminds of performance rhythmic. Nature produces heavenly music. Sounds of a lovely rainy shower remind of the melody of a sitaar(2) But nature is not just rose petal. It is also a tempest most terrible. When the earth shivers in fever destruction happens everywhere. Deadlier than oppressor's army is the onslaught of the tsunami. Natural forces extremely great shake courage of men ultimate. Then, in humility join hands two and piously pray to parent true. Then Supreme one, grants mercy and reestablishes lost harmony. Without that conscious element nature is just a force vehement. That is nature's bliss and beauty. Without that reigns chaos, only. 1 Megh Malhaar is a symphony in Hindustani Classical Music for the rainy season. 2 Sitaar is a famous stringed musical instrument of Indian Subcontinent
Subways canceled; buses, too. Cannot visit park or zoo. Broadway tickets? Outta luck. Far from home? You might be stuck. Baseball games not being played. Flights postponed – at best, delayed. Museums closed and so are gyms. In churches, there might not be hymns. If you're residing in Zone A, Evacuate without delay. For all the rest, have flashlights, please, 'Cause Con Ed has no guarantees. Stock yourself with food and drink; Here we totter, on the brink. Get supplies or you'll regret it. When Irene hits, you won't sweat it. Nature loves to throw us curves And newscasters pump up your nerves. Still, I'm all set and won't complain, Just waiting for the wind and rain. I wonder, though, if they're mistaken - If it's sunny when we waken? Experts will say we were spared Because we were so well-prepared!
How can you ever reap my sweetest fruit When you cut me entirely from the root? A root sage as the last leaf of autumn Descending downward to its unknown tomb With its words of wisdom of which I sing In vibrant voice but you hear me nothing!
From the window, I can see Snowy blooms on the dogwood tree Cows grazing on pastures green Baby calves, such a lovely scene In my country heart, I seek Words that describe, words to speak So that others may read these lines And find a deeper peace at times God has filled our world with beauty To care for it is our only duty Stewards of the land are we Keeping it beautiful for all to see
Spring has arrived, her cycle of life beckons As she thrills us with greened anew Buds grace the light as if blinking in the sun Bulbs of many play peekaboo through the softening soils As days grow into weeks, vistas explode all around Colours aplenty bloom into a plumage of petals Choruses of birds chirp, igniting patterns of lure As pending partners charm and delight as unions are discovered Natures carnival of blossoms and greens highlight her art Whilst gentle breezes caress them as they drift down and carpet Hours and evenings stretch allowing rays of warmth to radiate Fruiting plants start on their journey of harvesting joys Summer knocks on Springs door declaring seasonal appearance As we look around and applaud, ripening is natures show of hands http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature-7.php
Silked and velvet linings, sweet and sweated dew, of pink lining coating pettals flattery in mist of dew. Blooming of this rosie blossom, uplifting head in sky, wondering and drifting- water of mist splatters, she cries. Alone in the mire, befriended with her stones and pot, and wind be thrashing- roaring hit her velvet in one shot. Flattery flower! Flushed of pink desires, perished, alas, alone in the wetted mire.
Now the arrival of a desolate kingdom so bleak Felt and suppressed not able to speak With the cold winds that blow Beneath a paradise of sparkling clad snow Nox has cloaked all with an attic embrace To what was tempered on this earthly space Hardened clay with fists of steel Crackling rivers that slept and concealed Howling cries of the lonesome and the scared No place for the living to dwell unprepared Lifeless beds of gardens fast asleep This place not fit for man nor beast And so a passing of time will endure and erase To the coming of spring taking in its place
He grows in his garden porcelain lips; kisses for the rain. And the flowers wanted to look out, so he planted a window pane. He grew a shiny crystal eye; to wink at the sun. And a thing to keep the prowlers out, so he made the gate to look like a gun. He rooted there a metal clown; entertainment for the flowers. And just so time would not make a fuss, an hour glass to sift away the hours. He sprouted silver branches there, for the tired birds of June. And an awesome golden harp is planted, in hopes the wind would play a tune. He grew this magnificent china bird; to tease the worms. And there by the gate a rubber mouse; insurance against the pachyderms. And for all to see, a green jade thumb; ask not for what or why. He grows these things, smart or dumb, to entertain a roving eye.
Will the Weather? Will weather always have to be warm? For wind to blow and there be a storm Then rain to come and prepare a path And trying to calm all of God's wrath. God, settle down weather will you please Add days to my life so it can increase Enjoy and appreciate all you have done And rain on world will unfailingly fall upon. Majestic is God's might and love for me Here at home of brave and land of the free America was made basking in God's beauty As I write more poems and perform civic duty. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran
All of the Dust There are those things that will twinkle And rain as it starts to softly sprinkle; Lightening sharp flash and the sound Of loud thunder booming all around. Bees have a home they call their hive While many things manage to survive On ground trying to forage for food; Bother them, No, I am never rude. Raindrops appear from every direction And on concrete can see their reflection Which will stop shortly I hope and trust After it did settle down all of the dust.
I saw a baby fox today; It looked like it had lost its way. Its mom was nowhere to be seen; I felt like I should intervene. Its tail was long; its fur was red. Its skinny frame looked underfed. It paced a bit right near the road, Perhaps in search of its abode. We drove away and left it there. It wasn't that we didn't care; But every creature that's alive Must learn the know-how to survive. There's a reason that each breath Can tip the scale towards life or death. Nature pulls the strings, not I, Deciding who will live or die. I hope that balance falls in favor Of that fox, for I would savor That our lack of enterprise Did not result in its demise.
that indian, he ain't come to town still, summer's started windin' down you can feel it in the air some how this season's seasoning, time to avow do soldiers march with cadence strident? as sure of battles outcomes provident as time of Sol marches across the sky another summer season spent, gone by still, the warmth will linger a bit more 'til Earth's tilting a cooler guarantor that winter will soon tag this autumn and nights long flow slow as sorghum quarterly, we divide our seasonal pie to save and share and partake thereby turning our waterwheel of milling time to something fervent, meaningful, sublime so, i fervently wish to take this opportune today, to share this halcyon afternoon with you alone, ok maybe a pet or two i love this life, i love this day, i love you © Goode Guy 2011-08-22
For A While Heavy rain again has started to fall In outside furniture will have to haul And find missing things I may want For several hours may have to hunt. How hard lately it has been raining And down my spouts it all is draining While clouds in the sky are gray and thick Are all so wet whichever you will pick. All animals lavish and love rain thoroughly Even friendly frogs make music merrily Whole world appears to be on arduous trial So I'll fall asleep and knap for a while. Jame Thomas Horn Retired Veteran
Sweat pants and wool socks a hand-knitted scarf or two warm mittens and hats no doubt you think I'm nuts Rosy cheeks and runny nose soggy boots and frozen toes chattering teeth and quivering knees when I dream, it is of these Down jackets now long packed away skis and poles just taking up space in my crowded messy garage snow covered runs - just a mirage Sun screen and flip flops sunglasses and sticky pits baseball caps and Thanksgiving in shorts I despair of weather reports How did I get to this eternal hell? where A/C costs you a paycheck as well where tender skin exposed continues to burn . . . I just know somewhere I missed a turn.
MIRROR RIVER Mirror river perfect glass Twice the beauty as I pass Birds are tweetling as they should Trees of spring about to bud Double sunshine double sky Ducks not here yet - don't know why Not a ripple breaks the surface Sheer reflection in the stillness
Dogwood branch extending, end of summer's bloom Shadows on our windshield, blinking from the gloom The sunny skies are peeking, brightness with a glare Reveals a changing forest, the trees becoming bare Pines are shedding cones, we see them in the road Soon with weighted snow, limbs fall from heavy load Squirrels are storing larder, prepare for future's need Nature getting ready, is planting winter's seed
On a dark dewy dampened night Stars sparkle above my campsite A thick brisk breeze blows through Toggles my tent nearly in two Hunched I stand to unzip me out Tent too cramped without a doubt Wind blows my hair against my face Zipping it closed with precise haste Stepping on top of fallen pine needles Barefoot I pray there are no beetles Marveling the stars unerringly strewn Against a black sky accenting the moon Inhaling the crispness of the night Decreases my grief with cogent might Exhaling those troubles kept deep inside This evening drenches a dreary façade Loquacious crickets chirp steady songs Forcing resolve to end the day's wrongs The scent of jasmine lingering on Allows my spirit to sing its song Undoubtedly camping feels so right On a dark dewy dampened night~
Belonging to you is not possession in my eyes It's the law that no one defies You live in my heart and I live in yours No one else can claim to set me free I am only me when you are with me For Naj
Along time ago just the other day I saw a magic horse who flew my way Well all in all jackpot in hand It flew me off to a distant land A place where the Land meets the Sea We landed there this horse and me Somethings in life should not go to waste Such was the beauty of this special place Secluded and surrounded by sheer rock walls With an abundance of beautiful waterfalls Creating rainbows that filled the skies Oh, This place was beautiful to the eyes As I looked all around at the giant ferns Into my heart this place did burn While listening to the beat of the sea We had a picnic this horse and me Then down the beach we took us a walk And without a word we had us a talk Life is full of many wonderful things Like my flying Mustang with golden wings Written by Michaela and I
Never Need to Care I have a habit writing with my pen Which seems to let poems come in Words will come out every which way For while longer can read and here stay. Rain came down and started pouring And all of nature I am always adoring As flowers form and grass starts to rise For me sure was a pleasant surprise. Back to writing poems must be going While I watch everything that is growing Never need to care what is the matter Love seeing sunsets and clouds that scatter. James Thomas Horn Retired Soldier
Many stand beneath my branches to shelter From the rain But never in a thunderstorm for lightening to fry their brains Amid my leaves birds build their nests their chirps and whimpers joy to my breast Against my trunk lovers lean or carve their names While young ones use it for target practice ,such a shame Upon my roots above the ground the hobo spends the night Fanned by leaves forever dancing in the wind. Loggers come with sharp tools that hurt To chop and slice my limbs or log my torso off. A murdering lot they are yet my life's not over yet I still have surprises up my sleeve to amaze them you bet. I become beams and benches in mansions and schools I bask in sunlight as a gazebo by a pool. I sail the seas as a ship of rare design And wonder if man realize that trees never die. They only take my life to another place and time While my young shoots become trees again by and by.
The cowboy in cascading leaves has lingered much too long, As he sings amid red and gold, summer's last dying song. The sky is clear and blue this day, but change is in the air— Far mountains shine with crisp, white caps and blow cold wind through hair. He softly spurs dreams into a stampede of falling leaves— Wishing that the best of worlds would bring bad men to their knees. He turns his horse to the north and heads for that old line shack— Hoping that the larder's full and come spring he'll be riding back. He trails sweet salmon sunset as brass leaves rustle the breeze— Far sky melts to shining white as snow is held back by trees. He knows hard winter's coming, its cold silver slides in fast— For a time he savors summer, knowing good things don't last. The cowboy in cascading leaves has lingered much too long, As he sings amid red and gold, summer's last dying song.
In a drizzle, droplets drip; Hair will frizzle, make-up slip. Streets will glisten, raincoats bead; Wipers work the lowest speed. Rain that's steady slashes down; Puddles plash and insects drown. Folks' umbrellas bump and clash; Headlights blind you, bold and brash. Pouring cloudbursts crash and soak; Running dashes they provoke. Awnings are in short supply; People race indoors to dry. Even though we need the rain, When it falls, we oft complain. Still, we're lucky, as things go – Any rain's preferred to snow!
RAINBOWS Newton spoiled it all for me. Rainbows were obviously God's colour spree He splashed about with glee. Beauty was their strength and attraction. Now it's all just wavelength and refraction. Thank God though Newton never saw the glow Of ice bows and fog bows I can still enjoy their shows.
Surely there was some mistake! This couldn't really be a quake! I know one person – not a joke – Who thought he'd suffered from a stroke. But no, the experts did unveil 5.7 on the Richter scale, With tremors up and down the coast; Virginia seemed to get the most. New Yorkers seemed the most surprised. We haven't been familiarized With quakes like this since '44, And this one we could not ignore. For many, 'twas a brief distraction, With surprise the main reaction. Life returned to normal, fast; Could-have-been thoughts do not last. Yet we think of others struck Who didn't have our same good luck. Nothing really quite predicts How Mother Nature gets her kicks.
Before I go, my love, before I go, could we together watch the afterglow? It won't be long, it wouldn't take too long to you I'll be a half-forgotten song. Now let us watch the slowly setting sun, so soothing sweet, though end has just begun, so brightly beaming, yet, so sadly sighing, the day's farewell and now the light is dying. Behold, my love, the sweetly seething sky, the blazing burst of colors draws a sigh. The flaming purple clouds float by on high, the sun's farewell and now, my love, goodbye!
I always like having time to devote Taking people for a ride in my boat Up and down river we all will float Should watch us and try to take note. Alligator with sun screen could be seen Form here to bridge, somewhere in between While watching water flow through the reeds Isn't it amazing how God fulfills our needs. Saw some osprey high up in their nest Brought food for young and they did digest And in every song sang seemed to say God has granted us another great day. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran
1.A, cardinal of alphabets deity is pre-eminent. 2.What use thou learned? unless venerating divine 3.Captives of his flower-heart long live on earth. 4.Devotee of fair nature never faces hazard. 5.Admirers of nature never suffer ignorant fatalism. 6.Self controlling of sense organs, long live. 7.Critics of unique divine suffer constant misery. 8.Forsaking sage of charity uncross delightful seas 9.As insensate organs, nonconformists of him worthless. 10.Devotees of divine cross birth-ocean, censure not. --------------------------------- Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31 B.C), the author in Tamil Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU,INDIA Published in poetrysoup.com on 3-12-13 Email email@example.com
Tiny raindrops fall gently on the crystal pool, forming wavelets of slowly fading ripples. Lotus blooms dance to the rhythm of the water, bowing gracefully low like nature's chandeliers. Happy guppies frolic, unafraid of getting wet, neither cold nor pneumonia seen as a threat. Frogs in the undergrowth sing a choral refrain "Rain, rain, don't you ever go away again." Such peaceful scene and what beautiful sound as heavenly shower comes pouring down. Funny how the sight of rain falling on the pool can make a mess in the mind of this lazy fool.
In a burst of fellow feeling from the sunshine to the earth ripened blooms to be revealing soundless voices yet unheard as they seep into my windows with the sugar scented air set to spark imagination with a certain savoir faire I'm entranced beyond all vision thought to signify the spring and I wake to comprehension and the stature that it brings for I know the movement of the earth relates to every being and I feel the warmth upon rebirth in saplings to be seeing In a burst of live sensations from the sunshine straight to me theres the marked deliberation to be floating, to be free As the scent of passing flowers find their way into my room thus the sunshine overpowers and desires every bloom.
We start out life as blossoms. Then we turn to hues of green. Our resting place is on the wise and mighty oak tree. The oak displays us ever so proudly, way up high. Where we can almost touch the heavens. The sky. We dance in the soft breeze, for all to admire and see. Our purpose is to make air, so others can breath. As we grow old, we'll shelter the squirrels. The birds. We silently sit. We need no introductions. No words. When our time is nearly finished; we'll fade and turn brown. The mighty oak will then set us free. We'll gracefully float to the ground. For our grand finale, we'll slowly vanish into the soil. We'll nourish the oak. Return next season. We're its' servants. We are loyal. We'll begin again as blossoms, and then change to hues of green. Our resting place will be back on the wise and mighty oak tree.
Out for dinner – forecast: rain. Sat outside, a bit insane. Every outdoor table filled – People chatted, laughter trilled. Got our drinks – the sky grew dark; Weathermen were on the mark. Soon came thunder, also lightning, Which was just a little frightening. Rain came pounding – truth was dawning: We'd get wet despite the awning. Waitress helped us move inside; New Yorkers take these things in stride. Calamity we did avert. We drank a Guinness for dessert. When we departed, rain was light; It was a lovely Friday night.
'Woodsorrel and violet To soothe the heart's fret' Fo heart's broken by a male So goes the old country tale; A herb for all their needs Or potion to right misdeeds; So easy now to scoff or scorn With the empirical now left forlorn. A drug for this and one for that With side effects,often worse, Accompany the cure...with a curse
Shrieks of seagulls die on the breeze; Childhood ebbs away on sunlit seas.
1.Revealing regimented forsaking is determination of books 2.Accounting ascetic conceit is odd as dead. 3.Renouncing, computing creation and destruction is noble. 4.Controlling sense- organs by knowledge considered blissful seed. 5.Killing desires of sense-organs skilled as Iconoclast. 6.Great perform rare noble deeds inferior fails. 7.Prudent, realizing five senses command the earth. 8.Greatness is exposed by his metaphysical language 9.Short incensing save not the hilly virtuous. 10.Altruist performs charity of cherishing earthly beings. ------------------------------------ Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar, the author in Tamil Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU,INDIA Published in poetrysoup.com on 3-12-13 E mail email@example.com
1.Nothing betters life to eminence and affluence. 2.Nothing profits than charity forgetting is worse. 3.Perform charity wherever possible thy can do. 4.True heart is charity rest all exaggeration. 5.Evade envy, avarice, annoyance and coarse-words for charity. 6.Performing charity in youth without postponing lasts. 7.Charity needs unexplainable to palanquin-carrier and passenger 8.Performing goodness daily walls prospect of births. 9.Glory by goodness delights for others futile. 10.Owe to do righteousness omit from evil. ---------------------------------------------- Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31 B.C), the author in Tamil Translated by S.Kandasamy, MUSIRI, TAMILNADU, INDIA Published in poetrysoup.com on 3-12-13
AUTUMN Arduous racking of leaves from the trees; Ultimately gathering from down on our knees. Turkey and tensile; soon to be here; Uniting of families as Christmas draws near. Maple leaves falling; by many and one; Nature announces; that winter will come
Hollow dense vapor sets along the brook Never imagining dawn breaking in Earth meets air and it's mysterious show Stillness so still .. it feels like utter sin~ None could tame the unspoken vigor Water meets Air above an untamed breeze Justice is served Mother Nature's eager Vernal life lines the brooks simplistic ease~ The breath of comfort calming and placid Brook does not babble but silently flows Nor is there a scene like this one today Breathtakingly unique double rainbows~ If all nature is not a warrior..... There would be rot in desolate spaces How then could her graceful exterior Know natures place is among these places? When you're out walking in nature's way Ignorantly avoiding her bountiful mass Recall to your divine spirit that may Murmur negativity away, be steadfast~ Forest anew with decadence steady Society must learn to be ready for war Mother Nature's ner' hollow but ready Know nothing has ever stopped her before~
So brief lived is your existence Swinging, hung in the wind of resistance Your wonderful canopy so brimful and green Once proud and appealing now part of a fall scene Maybe not always so gloomy to us, Thus, Your ever-changing colors are enchanting to the eye A spectator none can defy Until they tumble endlessly into piles Dancing in the winds for miles And then turned into a coffee dust Onto the soil and staining it to a color so robust As so your job then is to rest, Until you're brought back at request Now you've became a part of nature's circle, In the pasting years of a chronicle
The prism hangs from my window, Flashing bright colors of yore. Every color is visible, Coming out of hiding for my eyes. I am lost in the movement of my mind, For it moves endlessly with Every color of the rainbow, My own private rainbow of love.
Early evening's warm fresh breeze Sented aroma adrift with ease As afternoon sun melts slowly down Day light concludes with a dusky crown Evening beckoned me out for a stroll Dainty placidness quenching my soul A silky breeze makes my spirit content Picking up lilac and trailing her scent Sun dripping slowly down her pink sky Eloquently melting as birds fly by Enraptured by this lingering breeze Relinquishes hope for tomorrows ease By Jane Bowen
Summer green,harvest scene- the view changes every day Summer blue,yellow too- the view changes every day Summer again,refreshing rain- the view changes every day Summer breeze,sculptured trees- the view changes every day Summer still,in God's will- the view changes every day Inspired by the view from the meeting room of our Christian house-party vacation this past week
Conjoined at the brain, bound at the hip Two halves of one heart as we skip a beat Inhale and exhale, though happy or sad Reliving content days we never had Roots planted firmly in gail force winds Not breaking, but bent by futile beginnings Crooked, but growing from much needed rain One sided, outranking the undeserved pain Screaming and shouting, silently led astray Deafening whispers while breath wastes away Struggling for air amidst hurricane wrath The end is in sight, we've chosen our path Compassion while hoping that mercy is shown Air lifted when sand or snowstorms blow A vacuum absorbing ill fated defeat Bloated paranoia swept from its feet Balloon shaped, soaring on wings with a song Two wind chimes hitching a ride all along Winds of change will sing of a tale Of a sail filled with wind or a wind filled sail That brought to shore a limitless supply Of peace and wisdom and undying pride Floating on loveboats brought in by the tide
Runners, joggers, wheeler, hikers - They feel the power of nature's glow, with breeze and sun Then with such course, the walking dead joins in? or shun? Each runner's course is rough, then smooth They and the jogger feel lifted up, by golden rule Hikers hike, and what do they feel? zeal! Like wheeler; they, too, zip up for fresh air's meal Runners, joggers, wheeler, hikers; they all know who rules Even walkers are a pert of their pool... in which The Maker of breeze, and nature's glow and sun Holds reservoir of sap fit for everyone. *
Gently, light touched my eyes As it tickeled my thighs… A soft breeze entered my door A melody played across my room…. A heart beat was heard As a new day approached…. Lowly, I opened my eyes, Where a beautiful view was in display… A view birds can't wait to see… A view where life begins to speak… I rested my eyes that morning, on the sunrise's beautiful drawing... The drawing that displayed a harmonious painting, of red, orange, yellow, and the people who are smiling…
He came outside to a circling hawk on the day of the child t'was the name he caught on a spiraling feather in his hand, now Circling Hawk is the name of the man.
As Monarchs flutter within my yard, Preparing for their trip so hard. Not aimlessly fluttering to and fro, God spoke it once and made it so. The sound of Geese now fill the sky, To winter home they now must fly. How do they know when time to go? God spoke it once and made it so. Squirrel's, no busier could they be, Storing nuts from a backyard tree. Why at this time, how did they know? God spoke it once and made it so. A quick glance downward at my feet, A trail of ants seen with winters meat. How can lowly ants work like a pro? God spoke it once and made it so. These things I've seen within my yard, The explanation given is not so hard. God didn't create and then let go, God spoke it once and made it so. As I look at nature each day I see, Beauty that didn't just happen to be. One must but look to surely know, God spoke it once and made it so.
Sand Spur Ruined Reunion Things outside so often seem to occur Like present of a protruding sand spur Which I want to pull out and discard Before they completely cover the whole yard. Things that traumatically happen can be true; What started out as a single are only a few From soil many nutrients started demanding; Number obviously ended up being outstanding. Never knew their source of original origin But still keep coming back again and again; Outlandish has become all of their activity; Won't see them in scenes which are nativity. After finally, furiously growing up so fast, They will become part of a prevalent past, And even though I were to shed a tiny tear The bastards would still be back next year. James Thomas Horn Retired Vet and Favorite Pet
Some kind of creation, Dooming us to damnation. Try with all our might, To win the fight, With these hellish beasts, Choosing us as their feasts. One by one we go, As the drag us below. "Come on Sam" Then 'Bam'! They try to break in And hit me in the chin. Chromosome twenty four Will make me hardcore. I try to resist, At this she insists. I know you, You'll be one of the few.
I'm sitting here wishing I had some smoke, smoke from a dubby and I hope I choke. there ain't no weed here and I hope I can buy, it's not much to ask for I just want to get high. It takes me away from reality and my mind rest, a well needed vacation from my thoughts which can get the best. The only thing that helps keep them out, is Mary-Jane that lovely lady and without her gives me doubt. I smoke weed whenever I can, I smoke weed so much I'm it's biggest fan. It's a way of life the one of a stoner, that's how I live it's as good as a boner. So when I get some ganja everything will be okay. and after I smoke I'll feel better the rest of the day.
Divided devotion, like once parted ocean A labyrinth of mere blinded emotion Beating but bloated, ready to burst Urgent ache to be free from this curse Carve out our names, bound by a heart Together forever engraved on bark Destined desires, fulfillment somehow Fortuitous craving must be filled now Pronounce what I'm feeling on this old tree Love oozes from ballpoint, but too far from me My heartfelt gift can't wait till later When in death the oak transforms into paper
The sun squeaks over the horizon, the night falls and day arises. And like a young child I was once before I held my papa's hand and head for the door. Ready- to grasp the slimy worms in the coffee colored dirt that squirms! Ready- to mounch on beef jerky from a cheap old store and fish on a lake and reach to the sea floor. The ripples of the water were like music you could watch and the tree talked as me and pa took a sip from our scotch and whistle to the noises in the air while rocking on the boat to the moment we share. And over time- the night begins to steal the day, and the days says good bye- like a person would to god as the prey. Colors of the sunset were a bit blurry from that scotch- but being there was fun to watch all the memories that sooned to fade of all the best times he and I made back when I was four, when he taught me how to fish- as we head for the door, that was something I dearly missed.
I drink the jasmine .........deep within I touch the sound of songbirds ..........on high I breathe a verdant scene .....onto my page I taste the sunshine ......upon my face I feel my heart .......filled with grace I hear Spring disappear ...and Summer days unlace
You're soulfully heated in Winter surroundings While ages of ice aches in Summer compounds me Transparence in vain, entombed and trapped Archeological finds and mysteries cracked Shattered to stardust while ice crystals blow Symbolizing the melting of wings in the snow To cover an angel with blankets of love Cool to my touch, smothered from above Peacefully sleeping in dreamfields enchanted Cursing the one wish remaining ungranted Opposite ends of the wishpool remain Seasonal pilgrimage starts up again Ripples in dreampools of sleep destroy much Yearning to freeze this image, to touch Over and over leaves me flabbergasted Eternally grateful I smiled while it lasted
When Spring comes again not the warmth..nor the rain not the yellow ..nor the green not the grass or verdant scene; not the winds or blossom bright not the showers or more daylight; but hearing creation's new birth shouted aloud in sky and earth. Format inspired by a Tim Dudley-Smith hymn
Ominous growls, whipping panic's vane Sirens sounding, wailing nature's bane Caustic clouds, whose lightning does ignite Crackling thunder, dancing demons of night Souls praying, huddled in halls of eternal wait Windows rattling, children into hysterical states Rooftops straining, revealing families of neglect Tornadoes swallowing, past promises to reflect
Black trails in moonlight red in the day, wounded in winter and wasting away. dragging your weight against all odds in squalls of violent snow storms you challenge it all. red snow betrays you to predators' eyes in secret they plan for your early demise. The hawk and the eagle, the wolf and the man, all seek your death but you must take a stand. Life is a force and it will be preserved this surely isn't the end you deserved. Ask the Great Spirit to take you in hand to bless you and keep you from creature and man. May He lift you up in an aura of light, to look down in wonder at red snow tonight.
Sunken to the bottom in the snap of blue delight to simply bathe in glittering and crystal slushing ice Silt and streaks of sunlight blowing through the gills of fish sneak their skin upon my lips to usher in a kiss Winter wilts and stutters as I shine my surface eyes bubbles slipping upward toward the warmth of summer skies Hold my breath to silver while I listen to the flow Giltter lake alive my pulse until I start to glow
Tyburn and Diamante, the smarty and the glow, are now here and they're ready, perfectly ready, to be read by you my dear! The wintry weather have mantled their innocent forms all day, and by the window they're leaning on my last hope, their hooray. I watch li'l Haiku, flowing, with orange flame in the evening wind, whilst the mystical orb lingers at the blue mountain---the fairies' inn. Dinner-fume is not floating-up yet, perhaps not today, from your kitchen, so I, the mixed-rhymer, will do them the reading with pizzas in our hands.
A blooming flower from a concrete crack in the heart of a baron location A silent hope is sparked within my third eye's concentration My thoughts and feelings unify in tandem at this indention Inspiring me to aid the plight and pronounce this marvelous occasion I notice you, I notice life, I appreciate this sweet sensation Brought on by beauty against the odds, I'm filled with joy and elation If you could whisper in my ear, what would be your dedication? I long to know true beauty's song a symbol of unrivaled negotiation No interference must be allowed, no maiming of proud reputation I wish to shelter all that's good and true in reality's hallucination Reach for the sun; reach for the stars as I stare in meditation Your presence here has made me smile, a peaceful, pretty vaccination So here's my ode to you dear friend, or call it humble confirmation Of ever-present love and respect not wavered by intimidation I admire your courage, your strength, your will to succeed in isolation In this life so hard, you still stand out, the biggest, smallest inspiration
Queen Anne's Lace, brittled brown donned in snow instead of a crown off the side of the tar, where the deer still roam bent toward the wind on their freeway home From their bird's eye view the cars blur air They bend in a bow with elegant flair Although they be broken, no speck of green They know their own legacy, royalty preen And once in a while, their subjects take note as I did on last Sunday while using their road As a passenger in one of the whooshing cars Fogging up windows, under their stars I noticed their caps and their grace and their strength I swallowed my voice and gave pause at length They've brushed by my legs in summer, bright green Jeweled earrings of bees, crowing lace between Royal Queen Anne's, brittled brown wears fitting white ice as a noble crown.
Upon the far off hill, with the sun beating down are just hundreds of flowers that grow from the ground. Each one is distinctive in its very own way And each has a fragrance that will make your head sway. The loveliest of flowers, oh yes, to behold Planted by the eternal gardener, or so I am told. He planted the seeds with thoughts and with care With the hopes that his people will see beauty there. He knew all too well of the beauty He had made The senses they all please and the comfort they gave. He knew that in time we would return at an hour Of need for love from His most fragrant of flowers. He had blessed all the petals and stems with His touch. He gave each one beauty and love, almost too much. He made this a heaven on earth for all to then see But t'is better to smell, of the fragrant beauty.
Enveloped in a shroud of sapphire Lay a listless child by a fire Who sought an adventure and lost his way Who had mourned the passing of the day Gone had fled the light His home now far from sight For hours did he moan For he was now all alone But then glowed the embers of the sky The child looked up and tears did dry His fears and sorrows gave way to wonder No longer cursed he at his careless blunder The stars did then smile in glee As then the boy did see No further did he have to roam For they paved the pathway to his home
The clouds fell down abruptly upon me this day As the sun pushed them down, it had wanted to play I looked to it, with a squint in my eyes For it seemed so bright, there in the skies It smiled and said, Michael, please write of me I want the world to know just what I can be I am more than just light, to brighten the day I am inspiration, growth and a reason to play I flourish the fields with multitudes of flowers I give people reasons, in those fields, to spend hours I am artwork, unpainted, but crafted from above I am a gift from almighty, provided with love So, Michael, can you please write of me now Please let them all know, what I do and just how Please choose your words wisely, so all to see clear Just what I can do and just why I am here I said, do not worry, they all know it true For the words that I write, will be those poured from you
Never shall I spot a more precious dove It's pure feathers express innocent love. Wings of unspoken exquisiteness flutter with speed This divine creature will one day fall to human greed.
when the stars first formed in an unlit sky, i opened my eyes and wondered why. when the weather turned and scooped me up, i flew and swam and never looked back. when the sun beat fast and lightning flashed, i laughed at the madness as my dreams were smashed. but when the first flowers opened and i saw the colour blue, i cried with joy at the thought of you.
Upon the very morning as the crocus turns its leaves The predators, flying high above, do little to deceive The scurrying awakening rodents and rabbits, too, at play Just look to the very front of them with no fears upon this day And at that very moment, the birds flew in attack Driving all the critters, to hurry and get back Swooping low, to nothing, the birds just flew away They knew they'd have another chance, again, on the next day
Amidst the field of seeding grass,carefree; Lush clover scents the nectar seeking bee.
Gladiolas, peonies, lilacs and roses, too, Are here in my garden, but where are you? Tulips, daffodils, hyacinth, begonia, as well, But, where are you, darling? I cannot tell. Ah, but behind the arch where my roses display I see your sweet smile, do you want to play? Don't step on my flowers as you tiptoe about. You're the true flower, I can't live without. Speak sweetly to me as you tease and you dance. Thank you, my darling, for this garden romance
Sweet, hard, heavy rain to feed the needy earth Every green and living thing now drinks for all its worth The Act to come, A Winter's Tale, a time of bracing rest And all the while, behind the scenes, the Maker works with zest Each season sees a brand new set; the light show has to change Those colours fall, and twist, and flow, spectacular in range In wintertime aurora lights set polar skies aglow In spring a palette of flowers bloom and grass begins to grow In summer rainbows crown the land as showers cool the air And autumn has the final show as trees begin to bare The Engineer responsible is known by many names Whatever name you care to give, this beauty still remains
As I sit here On this rock, Writing about my life, The environment has blessed be with a cold, crisp, windy day. I listen to the trees, they are content, they are loved, they are not alone. The grass moves with each gust, the elements working together In perfect harmony and perfect peace. My hair moves ever so softly with the everlasting breeze. The air is whispering secrets to me, Only I can hear them. I won't tell, it would be my Horror to reveal such things to those who do not understand.
Down in Hungry Hollow there's a winding road to follow, filled with trails of stings and nettles lit by black eyed susan petals Down this road you'll kick the dust and breathe the roots of rotten rust Shine the pebbles with your shoes and learn to sing the "Hollow Blues" Whistle through your two front teeth the clouds, the sky, within your reach Apples fall and butterflies drink the nectar from their skin warm pink They follow you down to say hello and flutter before you as you go The road narrows down into Swallow Gorge where the fish jump your line as you reach the shore and the water turns to green to hide it's tangled cars sunk to occupy new life underneath the shooting stars Proud red branches from Old Man Tree beckon out to you to swing on their ropes in a high diving show which ends in a belly flop brew All the world claps in the flapping of arms turning frozen cobalt blue as you shout to the sky and barrel through a summersault or two You tent in Hungry Hollow, you press to feel your pulse as the air untainted by outward appearances has it's famed results You leave with the clothes on your back and the soles of your feet stained tar black You swallow your tears, your heart sunken hollow You've gorged nature dry, but you'll be hungry tomorrow...
Winter is now over as the once icy freezing breezes subside People venturing from their homes, no longer eager to hide The sun beats down with a warm, soft comforting embrace While we rub our eyes, awakening, feeling heat upon the face A radiance of permanence is emitted from the eastern sky As morning greets us with a smile and wink of season's eye Smell of new risen growth wafts on spring's warmer breeze As feelings of total happiness overcome me then with ease
Flotsam and jetsom and blueberry jam nobody knows in the world who I am running through tears on the way down your cheek under the lilly pads down by the creek gushing like clockwork up to the light in fountains predictable each day and night cycle of life from the clouds to the sea I'm here when you need me come drink deep and see.
You washed up as a smooth white bone of concave breadth and marble hone You washed up when the tide was high Held to my cheek to feel the sky You dragged in with the silver tide a secret to the waves confide You lost me then inside your spell I felt to faint, a bit unwell You salted skin upon the beach when you were there, within my reach You played the waves to sweetly slip in equilibrium to tip You waited there to hear my name, to soak the sand in pouring rain You slept awhile until my hands brushed off debris of golden sands You washed up like a Grecian stone when I was walking there alone but now I'll throw you past the shore You're not the treasure I'm searching for...
Twas in the tiniest drop of rain, That rested on my window pane, Twas in a flower, a blade of grass, That once again I saw His class. Twas in the tree with leaves so green, His beauty, once again, was seen. In the sky of blue and water's clear, I'm made to know each day,He's near. In dew kissed petals of a single rose, I'm reminded once again, He knows. The stars, moon, and sun so bright, He gave to me for heat and light. The winter's ice though cold it felt, The mid day sun that caused its melt. In snowflakes floating to the ground, Though millions came, I heard no sound. His presence once again was found, while listening to the Crickets sound. Then simple firefly with tail aglow, Within my mind makes me to know. this beauty I see throughout the land, Was not so placed by feeble hand. While looking about at small and large, I'm reminded daily that God's in charge.
Darkling romance with the river I love swim in a trance with the stars in my glove reflecting the visions of your gentle shores when you wash me away you know I love you more More in the mirror that shows me your name wet on my mouth meant to drive me insane trembling moment before life began more than a woman more than a man more than the price I would pay for my eyes kiss me with moonbeams a current of sighs.
Oak and maple trees turn to wines As summer's final sumac twines To autumn's cool amaretto scent Among the season's soft lament. The lattices of amber rose Turn skeletal with fall's repose. The final phase of new moon's chill Brushes autumn upon the hill, While fall's ambrosia soothes our fears Of winter's cool crystal chandeliers.
COLD, blows the North wind Chilling us to the bones WARM, blows the South wind Up from the temperate zones GENTLE, blows the East wind Stirring leaves with a sigh STRONG, blows the West wind Scattering clouds across the sky
The days are getting longer as the sun is holding bright It gives up, not so easily, as it tries to hold back night The mighty yellow orb is working overtime these days As winter turns to spring then into summer's fiery rays Alive then all the flowers, all the trees, the happy young As, now, there is a freedom when we're out there in the sun
Greetings to you, O, lovely sky Show me my precious butterfly Here I am before your majesty Let us live tomorrow in purity Like we were together yesterday Watching the sun faded into gray Time quickly passes Age, suddenly, increases Yet still, I am all alone Sitting on your marble throne Can't you see me from above? As I pronounce to you my love In my own song of soft falsetto Oh, remain to me, not in incognito So, tell me Athena, my love Whom I did not love?
snow and the blanketing midnight surrounds, muffles the madness, and snuffs out the sounds, rising in billows from wandering souls, fluff up your pillows and stare through the holes, letting in moonlight, like eyes of an owl, asking Who loves you, beyond deaths' dark cowl.
Something not to miss a twilight eclipse when moon is pale and all things wail When moon is full and the waves feel its pull when all things beneath the sea of red are either sleeping or happily dead When moon is high with spirits nigh the bloodred sky chills to cast a soft glimmer across these hills When moon is bright hanging high in night all stars creep back to hide behind the silver in shamed black
She feels to be broken, cast out and unkempt to be left unwoken cocoon-like and bent The egg shell of winter in powdered dust air like fingers, like tendrils of wilt in her hair Honesty in the room, blue and stiff beaten like egg whites of snow crystallizing horizons Just bury her too early sundown confessions for she's lost in the shells of her pastime possessions
Pastel Ravens (Ghazal) by Sunny Crystal rivers raging storm, whisper pastel ravens Sing unto hearts of highlights form, pastel ravens Shadow light spirits floating on high. Simple elegant passion, precious norm, pastel ravens Calling lost lovers, echos of distant thunder. Desired lonesome sounds, precious born, pastel ravens. Bestow thine precious gift, earthy pearl divine. Granted love, sounds, precious forlorn, pastel ravens. Melody sonnets cast across the sky of rain. Peaceful birds, raise high, precious horns, pastel ravens. Ghazal: Of Persian origin, poem comprising of couplets with a rhyme and a refrain. 1st Couplet: _______________________rhyme A + refrain _______________________rhyme A + refrain 2nd and successive couplets: ______________________________________ _______________________rhyme A + refrain
Snow banked high against the gate Walking to school,never late Milk left solid on the cill Ears well muffled,against the chill Rationed coal,eked ,bit by bit Fire grates, so rarely lit. Nights of cold,run into weeks 'Til grass through iron soil,peeked.
Temperatures fall as daylight hours fly Upon the lawn yellow leaves putrefy. American doublet form
Oh, depths of oceans, eternal skies Appearing now, before my eyes I wish to thank you for your gifts Without your beauty, I shan't live Oh, moonlit sky, eternal glow With a romantic luminary show Stills my heart to a slowing beat Provides me warmth, increasing heat Oh, nature as you're gazed upon I hear my heart sing out its song A world of thanks it gives to thee For all the beauty that it sees
After a healthy downpour of rain, Side by side, always the same Today or tomorrow, a simple bow The signal of hope, sunshine must follow A destined bond, family tied Silhouette of unity, predesigned A joyous echo, long established norm Classical collision, ensured, conformed If each color grew tired of the next Would independence leave us perplexed Lava lamp like, these morphing beams The stuff that's only seen in dreams Nature's fireworks, marvel at the sights Curse the sun's interference despite the churning clouds that bring the scent of awaited drops that must descent Which would you then celebrate more Winter, long nights and stars galore and rainy days, bountiful displays or summer beaches and butterfly ways The future may one day demonstrate Impacts of change from the current state For now, uplifting, shoulder to shoulder Beauty, simplified, in the eye of the beholder
Moon shadows,now long gone Birds sing a territorial song Cobwebs glisten in the light Canada geese,talk in flight Misty dew,lips a rose Sleepy moths,start to doze Butterflies awake to the sun Breakfest alfresco,just begun
The words paint a picture of peace and content The winds shudder of past days descent I follow the butterfly to see its route Only to be distracted by a cascade so proud I marvel at nature in its purest form Birds chirping noisily looking for worms Way up yonder my eye catches a glimpse Of an eagle so majestic look how how it prims My heart opens to receive natures gifts Splendinly alluring lifting my spirits
A paradise is what enters my mind When I reflect upon my dear estate A soft bed and breakfast it imitates Warm, cozy, and filled with precious antiques Named for the turquoise dragonflies we love But they are not the only residents There are chipmunks that live in the woodpile Douglas squirrels bark for their daily snack The wise old Bared owls ever on the watch The black tailed deer graze quietly at dawn Bald eagles ever soaring overhead Bigfoot occasionally visiting Your lush green lawns and colorful flowers Towering furs wall your perimeter A warm fireplace in the winter for heat A cool pergola in the summer months Listening to birds and the wind through the trees The wind chimes and the lone coyote howl Barbecue slow cooking country styled ribs Sipping a cool martini and dreaming God has blessed me and my dear lovely wife With a cottage and a wonderful life
Crackling embers break the silence dark,so dark the darkness lies at the edges of the forest Do you see the secret eyes? deep so deep the running river at the edges of my hands dangling fingers in the circles of the patterns of my plans something says I see you sleeping something says I'm right behind something silver in the moonlight something slips inside my mind all around the circle broken by the breathing by the breath by the certainty unspoken by the brilliant smell of death.
I took a walk with you this morning, for you invited me. I am glad I had accepted, for it gave tranquility. The peacefulness upon the path, that we both chose to take, was ever so amazing and one not to forsake. We heard the chirping of the birds; saw the rising of the sun. We welcomed morning upon the earth and peace for everyone. With hopes and joy and carefree thoughts, we ventured on our way and were thankful for, the two of us, His gift, this very day.
The liquid moon drips romance from its being in the sky As orbital light is emitted and guides us as we fly Together, while facing, it seems to shine for two The lunar lovers of eternity, stars in heaven, me and you The beams of light, so guiding, are eternal as we go A light of love so blinding, eclipsing the sun's glow The passion that arises from the two stars, you and I Exists as light itself, eternal in the sky
I'm not like my cousins, I'm gentle you see. I do all my living and eating from a tree. I'm cute and I'm soft, but never should you touch. A stuffed version of me would be loved very much. A rare breed I am, I am special, they say. So stop tearing down trees or I'll go away! I'm here for you now to gaze in wonder upon. Know, I might go, due to things man has done. So enjoy me for now and take pictures of me As I eat this bamboo while sitting in this tree. for my daughter Megan
Lazy days meld into one, summer siestas just begun; Busy bees morn 'til late, honeycombs proliferate. Speckled starlings sing with delight on July swarms in nuptial flight. Swallows circle in storm clouds low, a foraging airshow ,to and fro. Cricket willow on fields green, traditional pastimes in England seen. Gardens parasol bedecked, where picknicing wasps wander unchecked. Basil spreading six feet tall by freshwater trickling small. Tidelines explored on a rockpool beach, driftwood ,stranded,bleached. Hammock sleeping 'neath a halo'ed sun, a signal of September rain to come.
The grass soon needs mowing, as lime's placed with care The bushes, I'll be trimming, they've grown just like hair The flowers have also grown, they have or are ready to bloom The trees need pruning as branches now block out the moon The weeds, well they're weeds, which I already must tend The fence rotted through, now that's something I must mend The shed door flew off during the brutal winds of winter past The barbecue had blown over, I was grateful it had no gas Yeah, the spring it is wonderful for it's new growth, it's new life But, the work that it brings me, brings me nothing but strife
Wind..dances in the trees Egos,doing as they please Wind..brings clouds of rain Tomorrows,oftimes filled with pain Wind..sounds deep in the night Sorry,may not make it right Wind..elements moving unseen Attraction,love's go-between