Tuesday, February 8, 2022

No-Where Train

Rails, Train, Nature, Landscape, Quiet
courtesy of pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tired of riding this no-where train
can't you see, I need to keep moving
there's a song playing after the rain

clickety-clack out the window pane
sometimes, life can be confusing
tired of riding this no-where train

let's sip some pink champagne
change the track, to our choosing
there's a song playing after the rain

singing about life's sweetest refrain
the rhythm and rhyme are soothing
tired of riding this nowhere train

love, is something I can't explain
days are lighter, the tunes improving
there's a song playing after the rain

who knows how much time remains
spring wonders will be blooming
tired of riding this nowhere train
there's a song playing after the rain

linking with dVerse
hosted by Ingrid

a villanelle

author's note:  The hook for this came to
me on my afternoon walk, I could hear
the train on the nearby tracks.

Sunday, February 6, 2022

The Pulp of My Story

The Sunday Muse Prompt


 I
once
stood tall
a symbol of wisdom
expanding consciousness
living, breathing and giving
my roots dug deep into the rich earth
my crown always reaching towards light
my limbs sprouting to the beat of nature's song
often, I'd whisper ancient secrets into listening ears
the birds came in pairs nested in between my loving limbs
growing in splendor between the earthly and heavenly realms
then, the day of darkness came, cutting pieces of me one by one
your red axe heavy, hitting me hard, I cried silently in pain
YOU swung and swung until there was nothing left
putting your axe down leaving your mark
in the stump of what once was
called
my
s
t
o
r
y
of 
life


linking with The Sunday Muse

sharing with earthweal

 

May your inner tree always grow towards the light
Thank you for visiting

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Near Flowers

near flowers
a beacon of light
remembered

 

written in memory of Jeremy Hawkins 

Jeremy was a blogger who touched many lives
through his creative art.  

Near Flowers - Being Retro

Yes, you can click it....

Check out this beautiful print created by Jeremy,
perhaps, you will be moved to purchase one
in his memory.

‘Never gone, just transformed’ This is my belief

 

Monday, January 31, 2022

Winter Sky


 

In winter's silence, the snow falls sweeping over the landscape
of gray, white and silver hues. The wind begins to howl as the
tall pines sway to the crackling hymn of the day.  I close my
eyes drifting between sleep and wakefulness.  Seeking a place
of refuge from the harshness outside.  The plow rumbles  by
disturbing the waves of winter tide.  I escape into the sands
of a dream.

Rising, in the twilight hours, the storm has passed.  The sky
whispers of promise in brilliant colors of pink, orange, yellow
and violet.  Snow blankets the hardened earth. There is peace
after the storm.

water-colored sky
a cardinal's song of hope
sipping herbal tea

linking with dVerse
hosted by Frank writing a Haibun about winter

Thank you for visiting

Peace and calmness

Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Human Wilderness

symbols in Nature
source unknown

 

There is a human wilderness

held beneath the skin - Arts - Jim Harrison

 

it's rivers and streams

flowing through the

the vessels of a heart

beating to the drum

of ancestors who paddled

these waterways of discovery

protectors in a world untamed 

walking the shoreline sole//soul

in the quest of understanding dreams

 

it's a tree veining out from

spring to winter, aging

since the first circle of life

a seed, a sapling, breathing

in and out - in between

incantations in a mystical

forest generation to generation

 

it's a desert traveled during

times of drought and lost hope

brittle bones, mirages from

the past, present and future

a cactus flower thirsty for a

drink from cupped hands

of compassion

 

It’s mountains climbed in victory 

and defeat, gaining perspective 

one step at a time no matter how

steep and rocky the terrain


it's a labyrinth in an open meadow

leaving markers between stones

and wildflowers, a spiraling wave

of all life's experience, the meanderings

of the quest to the center of self art

 

linking with  dVerse 

hosted by Linda

Using words from Poet Jim Harrison 


Thank you for visiting



Sunday, January 23, 2022

Oh Sweet Robins

As long as there is food available, American Robins may stay north in cold climates. Photo by Chuck Porter via Birdshare.
Photo by Chuck Porter via Birdshare.

 

Oh sweet robins
has your flock lost its way
on this cold winter day

snow blankets the earth
hungry seeking food to eat
to find a bug would be a feat

January air is crisp and cold
open your wings little ones, fly south
for there you can fill you mouth

changing climate causes confusion
altered flight patterns, early arrival
late departures, a matter of survival

Oh sweet robins
I pray you find your way
return with songs on a warm spring day

 

linking with earthweal

 

author's note:  I went for a walk this afternoon
and to my great surprise, I found myself surrounded
by a flock of robins.  They are rarely seen around here
in the winter.  So, I did a google search and occasionally
a nomadic flock can be seen when they are looking
for food.  This poem was birthed on the spot as I
watched them in the trees and searching the ground.

 

Saturday, January 22, 2022

Tell Me, How

Photograph by Anita Sedberry at Harold Ross Fine Art Photography.

 Tell me, how I can ignite your heart
there's a melody waiting to start
this fire inside cannot be snuffed
will my poetic words be enough

Tell me, everything will be okay
as our moonlit dreams fade away
finding the pathway can be rough
will my poetic words be enough

Tell me, how I can ignite your heart
flame of light, I am ready to rock
tonight, it's you I'm thinking of
will my poetic words be enough

Tell me how you feel tonight
tell me how you feel tonight
tell me everything will be okay
tell me everything will be okay

 

 linking with The Sunday Muse

 Thank you for visiting 

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Spectacles

The Sunday Muse

Do I pick a lens to see
what is before me
through the mist
of winter

bitter cold lingers
numbing out a
mechanism of
survival

 rose colored glasses
an escape from reality

I see you, the scars
are visible, the loss
of a world we once
knew is now gone

dreams are unique
spectacles that help
us see through the
blurriness of life

strengthening vision
clarity needed on the path
forward


linking with The Sunday Muse

May you always see with clear eyes