Spring Serenade – Sonnet

The wisp is cool in striking sunlight sweet

A daffodil, a tulip screams the soil new

Bicycles, sweatshirts, hazy neighbors greet

A lightness in fresh atmosphere in view.

~

Shed the dried up, cancerous arctic skin

Where shelter became sweet easily drawn

Inside play feverish calculate kin

Surround ourselves in a warm winter yawn.

~

Begin her coo ritualistic dove

Feel energy delight in mind at ease

Arouse together humanistic love

In summer’s heat an early toss in tease.

~

In solstice we regard life bountiful

In time in Grace optimism in whole.

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Winter Winds

Cool air

soaking in the forest quiet nearby

we know it waits

we realize our lives will need warmth,

we are readily restored by a the sharp brace

of winter winds

makes us feel alive again.

A society relies upon the changing seasons to market their lives,

where else would we find ourselves planning for the latest fashion

without the guarantee …

temperature is dropping.

I get a little nervous sometimes when reminded

of that part of nature I don’t understand,

beyond the shelter of my walls,

well past the peace of a kindling fire,

I want to know more about the friend who is suffering,

yet, I’d rather not,

if I just look the other way,

well then,

it didn’t really happen did it.

Unless I turn on the news,

there are constant reminders

of a cool air well beyond the concept of our dreams.

A society exists with every interaction,

we can decide to associate

or simply get involved in the smallest manner possible.

We choose a limitless supply of polite escape.

~

When the winds do arrive I will notice as much as I hope you do too,

we are the same as we were when in the heat of a tropical sunlight

we could smile.

Whisper Autumn

While skies begin a stretch of cooler winds

body seeming to recognize limits

each stepping stone, virtual time rescinds

calculate further storm than time admits.

~

A child witness color – aging leaves

headstrong emotions tacked upon crackles

like a midnight fire sparks ember heaves

slow to respond yet beauty sheds shackles.

~

Perhaps a few more days together walks

a couple in a distance twinkling lights

certain ambience listens, cadenced clocks

strike hours, minutes, gathering delights.

~

Shadows interact well the wintry skies.

Spiritual songs sound sweet mating cries.

Sigh, Autumn

A heavy weight streams beyond a worried eye

skin tease a glint of aftershock in sky,

summer wind reveals the loss, Her hot ardor

romantic wisp, now memories adore

~

When as a lad out the doors I could run

passion a reminder of setting sun

hours ahead an arctic ground would near

then frozen ice and cool air’s freeze so dear.

~

Today the sensuous beauty of mind

play a melody for we are in kind

a humanity compelled beyond land

without innocence simple reprimand.

~

Would that the open sky begin to cry

I’m left in comfort, still wondering why.

Street Sounds on a Windy Afternoon

photo[1]

 

The breeze pours through fresh maples

spring is upon us, we gather fragrance.

Without their leaves and branch and root

the sounds would be lost in a cavern

Occasional noise interferes to remind us

we are in the city, a street cleaner sends

clouds of dust to tease the open convertible,

the owner reacts with little recourse.

Wait, while the light changes, the highway

ahead will sweep out the dust that irritates

eyes beyond sights of shallow smiles

and complex expressions telling the day

to each observer, before the honk, the engine

roars to nearly cradle a smaller compact

trying to get home to their vibrant landscape.

~

A thousand automobiles will pass through

trained lights and merged realities to go home.

While the action bumps and grinds a mechanic’s

dream, Earth; nature’s permanence will tease

the eyes that wish themselves laying about

on the green lush grass of a lovely afternoon.

What if the lights didn’t change and everything

stopped until the serenity of gazing about were

disrupted by taunting horns and slammed doors?

Would we in the human condition recognize

they haven’t a choice but to listen to our whines

as we try to recover from the injury of Man,

the purveyor of such disruptive tones in harmony.

A stalled engine gives opportunity to amend yet

instead self-guided concern creates a loud barrage.

~

We will come home in a reasonable amount of time

while the leaves on the trees sing breezy melodies.

Bluesy Storms of Spring

celebrate poetry

 

 

Speak to love how mellow you do to me

when you sing freely love’s sweet melody

I can travel away, a worldly distance

When just listening wanting to be free

Riding the crest of my yearning to be

Yes I do like you let me take that chance

Carry your message in a spring morning

While waking earth unravels winter’s wrath

I am wandering, how sweet the learning

of chords will shout aloud His love that hath

Allowed our human spirit’s true being

Reason to breath and thrive along this path

Sheer elegance delights a romantic

Bluesy departures, warms all such arctic

 

What Really Matters

splendor

(elaine tweedy paintings)

Taking a drive

Want to cruise the landscape

Roadblocks always seem

To slam my path

At a most convenient time

For others.

Brings me to my first vista

We do like to focus on them

Rather than perhaps, ah, ahem

Looking deep into our own psyche

Wait

Not so fast

Let’s talk about them a little bit more

Just a tad

So much easier than before

I want to understand

Just why it is that they are them

Those, others, because, why

Do they always seem to drive away

Or wait just a second

Light turns green

Moving on is so much easier

When glancing ahead

Journeying towards that

Inner peace

Will it exist if I drop everything else behind

A trunkful of baggage that I carry

With me each and every day.

Onto the next vista

Has a sort of mellow energy

Cannot quite ascertain the purpose

Feels wonderful, sweet peaceful

What am I thinking you might ask?

Certainly many things but nothing resembles

Any notions of … splendor is sought!