Category Archives: Nature

The Willow of Spring Creek

Held at bay through length of day, dismissed by early spring,
yet frost and cold deny there hold beneath sun’s burgeoning.

Splashing leaflets grace her locks poised in grace above the brook,
begging soft the warming soil with every sun beam’s kissing look.

Transfixed in subtle ether’s air, no time, no sense, no questions there…
She sings a psalm’s eternal phrase, caressing whispers through her hair.

Solely reverent angel she, held above the naked oak,
blushing green from what she feels and what the babbling waters spoke…
of ancient incantation, splashed in muse’s spell transpired,
so blessed her sensuous limbs adorned while others dream of hearth and fire.

Dancing in the hushing breeze, swaying arms and rolling hips,
smiling high above the stream, reaching with her fingertips.

Softly humming lullabies, dreaming of her summer’s play,
when long her hands entice the rill, casting rivulets with her sway.

Yet today at season’s cusp, she coyly courts the warming sun,
keeping watch o’er pebbled brook, softly singing to its run.

Showing all her subtle green that daylight’s length might love her so,
she stands to witness winter’s fade, waiting for the ones she knows.

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Filed under Nature, Poetry, Spring, Willow Tree

Winter Whispers (the Dream)

winter-pine

There between the fir’s snowed branches, whispers haunt in winter’s dance,
“Hush!”, she cried in rare defiance, “their whispered dreams don’t come by chance!”
Softly sparkled whiskers flitting through the early morning’s gleam,
whispering wishes for the new day held within this whispered dream.

Written for dVerse Poets Pub, Quadrille #24
https://dversepoets.com/

Image – courtesy of public domain
http://www.magic4walls.com/wallpaper/ice-covered-pine-trees-snowing-forest-field-at-dawn-33954.html

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Filed under Dreams, Mountains, Nature, Perspective, Poetry

The Procession (November Geese)

Stretched across a steel grey sky,
suspended, held in motion,
November’s “V” shaped lines of peace,
eternal, together, broken.
Whispered through the firmament,
a rustled hush of wings,
purposed rowing, stroking home,
calmly metered autumn dreams.

Harvest stubble left to fields
in gently woven tawny rows,
counts the lea twixt bearded forests,
passing o’er the few perched crows
who claim a bleacher fence post,
chatting, calling kind farewells,
while overhead the gaggle moves
in steady flow, within the swells.

Tomorrow comes first snowfall,
its scent betrayed to naked fields,
where subtle breezes carry hopes
of winter’s coming, autumn’s yield.

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Filed under Autumn, Nature, Poetry

The Cat and The Moon

cat-and-moon-kasia-derwinska

Solitude in standing,
bathed in harvest’s milky moon,
hallowed by the moment caught,
suspended midst the stars, in tune.

What sparkles call him to this ledge?
What questions form within his head?
How long will starlight hold his heart until he purrs to bed?

No matter what the fatter waxing of a perfect night,
the moon, within the edge of room, spills thick its milky white.

Beyond the distant clatter of alley’s trash cans hunting din,
above the howling love songs, sick, repeated, moaned, again, again,
no greater pleasure drifts his way than this, one perfect poignant perch,
where past the moon, ‘twixt stardust seams, his simple pleasured dreams do search.

photo artwork by Kasia Derwinska
https://www.flickr.com/photos/kasia_derwinska/

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Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry

Autumn Hint

Moments dance in brittle waves, sparks between the autumn leaves, staining soft the shadowed hints of summer’s slow goodbye.

Dusk defines this edge in time, a poignant blush against the thread of season’s change, such sad lament, soft rose in deeper shadow hides.

Focus fades, day succumbs, autumn’s early eve draws cool, wraps a hint between the stars, appearing one or two.

Pull the night shade lastly, here, strain thine eyes to find the lines, hidden midst the whispered hush, summer’s secret stretched o’er time.

Clinging to the eloquent, flagging in the memory, drifting in the season spent, dreaming toward the one to be.

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Filed under Nature, Perspective

The Arch

mesa arch david richter

Between the gilded scents of morn, standing open, beckoning,
an archway calling heaven’s song, reaching for my soul.
Spun in precious mountain light, thinnest air in reckoning,
stretching white the shadows long, waiting for my toll.

I know no sparkled band of path that led me to this place and time,
I know the keeper, owner, not, yet dare, I seek to meld sublime
into the space held just beyond, heart and soul in conflict,
upon the points of life and death, one free, one earthly convict.

Above the azure honey drips, wet and washed, brush marks lain,
a hint of flame arising slow, rushing through this quiet song.
Flaxen hints in burlap’s hatch, flagging dawning, midnight’s stain,
burgeoned lust in afterglow, blushing in sweet sunbeams, long.

It calls to me, I know, yet know not where I wander,
free to pull, above, below, tear my present self asunder,
break this living’s hesitation, rend a soul from deeper hues…
It calls me, beckons, pleads me home, ‘til quietly, I float right through.

Image by David Richter – Mesa Arch – http://www.davidrichterphotography.com

Posted for dVerse ~ Poets Pub 10-May
Lillian prompted us to consider doors; the suspense of what lies on the other side; the transition of passage; the simplicity and beauty of the doorways of our world.
You can find many great poets at dVerse.  I wholeheartedly recommend you take a look.
https://dversepoets.com/

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Filed under Dreams, Mountains, Nature, Perspective, Universal Soul

March

March wind stalls,
too bold,
within a broken azure sky,
bends beneath the will of spring,
grey and white,
scents bluster by.
Crisply,
winter’s air regained,
season’s linens hanging fresh,
warming flesh in hopeful mirth,
chilled cheek and nose and breath.
Subtle hints in whispers low,
stir the thrushes,
simple song,
stretching daylight’s feathered wings,
moments gained,
hopes grown long.
Winter’s echoed calling,
softly coaxing soil to spring,
stretches length across the day,
life in suit,
draws taut the string.
Granted love within the soil,
life and death,
reform in birth,
burgeoned blessings build again,
the core of life,
this earth.

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Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Ocean Mists

beaches-apostles-cliffs-clouds-surf-mist-beach-wallpaper-hd

Mists evade the rolling surf, yet cling to every molecule,
here beneath blue spattered grey, before the cliffs, in ridicule.
Spring the forecast, fall, the truth,
winter’s dungeon through reproof
harbors only summer’s hope when we decide to claim this beach,
gain some sense of proof,
our dreams deny our reach.

Cold the morning air derides all sense of what we hope, to sea,
born on purposed waves of foam through which our selfish lovers flee.
Loath the moment, long for more,
beg a knock upon each door
that keeps a lover’s blush alive within the gently whispered sum,
upon this witless moor,
wonders why we’ve come.

In silent step, pressed in sand,
hushed beneath the cliff’s swift stand,
echoed dreams drift near as ghosts beneath a spattered sky,
walking sweetly hand in hand,
as mists upon tide.

photo courtesy of Public Domain
12 Apostles – Victoria Australia

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Filed under Dreams, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

The Poet Cow

Ever wonder what goes on in the evening, after dusk, once the animals have all returned to the barn… Consider this…

Stories told at sunset’s arc when last the barn doors come to close, echo frames throughout the day, recalled in honor, artful prose that’s spoke in hushing laughter yet cast about in formal style, applauded when the speaker bows returning to the trough a while.

Amidst the hay and feed there, the poet cow enthralls in song, crafted day’s end stories collected from the farm’s sweet throng of horses bound to duty, of cows molested milking tales, of mice in chase and cats who beg to steal a sip from milking pales, of chicks and hens who peck about in counting grains of sand, of dogs who walk in mending fences beneath the gentle farmer’s hand.

Oh! The stories conjured, each verse with vim and vigor flows, weaves the country’s subtle life with dreams caught twixt the piglet’s toes.

The poet cow in bashful eye unmasks his soul when dusk is past, turns the stanzas fluently till all nod off and sleep is cast. Then to himself he mutters low, in Shakespearean tone and manner borrowed, “Good Night, Good night! … that I shall say good night till it be morrow.”

formatted and posted for dVerse – Poet’s Pub, Open Link Night

http://dversepoets.com/

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Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry

A Winter’s Kiss

Stand still amidst the frozen hush,
suspended twixt each crystal’s blush,
surrendered in mid-winter’s snow.
Starve your senses in the bold
retreat of hearth’s sweet warmth, left cold,
reducing now to all you know.

Iron bare, the season’s scent,
riding on a whisper’s hint,
each frozen note in languid air.
Blushing cheeks of summer rose,
stem the midnight’s soft repose,
hints of jasmine in your hair.

Within your deepest eyes, a smile,
transfixed, transposed in time, the while,
about you snowflakes swarm.
All angels draw their gaze on you,
our eyes, your eyes, here frozen, two,
yet still I find your lips are warm.

Ah! Winter’s night, within the storm,
impassioned hearts removed, reborn,
upon the white and virgin snow,
alive this moment, as lovers, know,
this moment, hallowed, sacred.

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Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry, True Love