nature

Anatomicalatomicgalactica

Electrons float in endless flight.
Space’s gray, no day or night.
Infinity lurks out of sight.
.
Elements blend or violently clash.
Random moment’s atoms smash.
Fusion bonds fission’s ash.
.
Core pulls, heat spurred.
Nucleus form, orbits dared.
Love holds a time shared.

~*~
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But Seriously

She fills me up with all things good.
I eat and drink as I should.
Her loving nature knows no bounds.
Sometimes we kiss to giggling sounds.
~
She feeds us well and treats me right.
Her love’s returned each day and night.
We doze embraced and wake the same.
When disturbed the cat’s to blame.
~
She fuels my fire and quenches desire.
Her talents awe and inspire.
Fun is had every moment we share.
But a love more serious is beyond compare.

~*~
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The Wizard of Windham

The wizard of Windham lived on the hill.
His walls of stone are standing there still.
The roof’s now long gone as is the tower,
once a symbol of the wizard’s great power.
~
His age was unknown, a millennium guessed.
The first settlers awed, but some less impressed.
The natives too could never agree.
Were his acts wizardly or wise fakery?
~
The questions delayed with new problems brewing.
The settlers flourished and the natives were stewing.
Agreements were made and boarders were mapped.
The hill was the place where both overlapped.
~
The wizard then asked to choice just one side.
The wizard then answered with a grin, big and wide.
“I’ll choose no side as the hill is my own,
each stone hand-placed, a thousand years grown.”
~
“My family, you see, arose from these grounds.
We speak and we hear all natures’ sounds.
The grasses here grow tall to tickle my feet.
And the berries are delicious because I like sweet.”
~
The chiefs convinced as he spoke of their legends.
Each then agreed it’s best to be friends.
The settlers too thought that was best.
A treaty was signed and they all now could rest.
~
Years then passed with the wizard unseen.
But his tower stood proud on its hill of green.
The settlers now settled and their families grew.
The natives moved on leaving now but a few.
~
A new generation, now triple in size,
gazed at the hill with big greedy eyes.
The treaty forgotten as was the wizard.
They planned to start building after the blizzard.
~
The long winter passed, the spring brought more rain.
That summer was scorching, then autumn again.
Builders were hired that following spring.
A fortress they’d build with a big banquet wing.
~
Wagons were loaded and the horses well fed.
The mayor woke early from his big comfy bed.
A speech he’d planned for that very day.
But storm clouds moved in and the sky turned gray.
~
His speech was canceled but the builders went ahead.
The mayor scurried home then back to bed.
Rain soon started then followed by hail.
The wagons got stuck on the wet slippery trail.
~
The work then delayed until the skies cleared.
Months soon passed, much longer than feared.
Rumors spread of the wizards return;
if magic he has come summer they’ll burn.
~
By early June the sky hinted of blue,
the trail now firm and the grass green and new.
The builders then called to make a new start.
The horses led forward pulling wagon and cart.
~
The trail narrowed at the base of the hill.
Then the horses all stopped and just stood still.
The builders got scared and ran back to town.
The mayor got fired for being a clown.
~
Some say the wizard had gotten his way.
That legend lives on to this very day.
Does the wizard still live, well nobody knows.
But his hill’s still green as the little town grows.

~*~
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Morning Triku #179 ~ AM

Treble

With the dawn comes light.
We revolve to kiss our star.
With dusk we devolve.
~

Bass

On a blue planet,
everybody gets sad.
When left in the dark.
~

Volume

From the earth all’s born.
Toil and frolic to survive.
As the earth we rest.

~*~
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Sees Brine

The call of the sea is dear to me.
The whisper of the wind reminds.
Briny crust fills every pore.
Seconds savored and moments pure.
~
It is to be a speck in an endless sky
or with blindness to question why.
Life is long when stars shine bright.
Tomorrow’s unsure in the dark of night.
~
But a wind that howls while in my bed
blows the sea from a dreamy head.
Heavy sweat fills an achy brow,
moments to dread, hours to bow.
~
But to be a speck and that is all,
the vision of knowledge is very small.
Life is long when stars shine bright.
A tomorrow unsure when dark is light.
~
In the calm the outside’s clear.
When times are rough it’s the inside we fear.

~*~
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That Fork and Path

Sunset setting a path to night.
Dusk taunts ending light.
Stars shine to guide and tease.
The moon glows, surely to please.
~
Our sun rises; all is new.
Life’s begun, sometimes blue.
Rain and clouds fog the mind.
Rainbows follow, peace to find.
~
Wind blows, waves crash.
Will’s bend; checks to cash.
Another day, fresh or old?
Tomorrow’s here, yesterday sold.
~
Betwixt are we; heaven and hell.
Time, manmade in natures shell.
Reality cloaked, armored to fight.
Sunset setting a path to night.

*
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Peace Out

Sitting in the rain, I see the world pass by.
I try to think sunny thoughts beneath a cloudy sky.
I hear drops on the glass, watching the grass glisten.
Nature’s calling from all around if to truly listen.
~
The birds are still singing high up in the tree.
The fish, I’m sure, are splashing in the open sea.
The bugs are always bugging, whatever it is they do.
And pets forever snuggle, loving me and you.
~
It makes stop to ponder and reflect upon our race.
As one of many humans I know I’d miss this place.
Yet we try to sculpt our views in ways that we choose.
The picture may be pretty but our nature we lose.
~
The sun will shine again and wash away this gray.
And unless we’ve a catastrophe we’ll see another day.
As is life, our time is short, as is every other breed.
But the future of our world’s less dependent on their seed.
~
“We reap what we sow” is a phrase we should heed.
Like a garden unattended will surely fill with weed.
The food we grow will dwindle, eventually to cease.
We’ll never feel rain again, but the earth will be at peace.
~
I know this sounds depressing but that’s not my goal.
I’m truly optimistic but time does take its toll.
Change is all around, like weather, not always fair.
But like a rainy day, the droplets we all share.

~*~
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Startin’

Oh, what to do, oh what to do?
My day is free, and the sky is blue.
There’s chores to do, my list is long.
My old guitar needs a new song.
~
I’ve coffee for sippin’, a chair for sittin’,
and that morning sun’s warmin’ my heart.
The birds are singin’ and peace it’s bringin’,
so far, a mesmerizin’ start.

~*~
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Glorious Glistening Goodness

The sun has risen on a beautiful day.
Why it will be I cannot say?
But I woke at dawn and I feel great.
My house is warm and troubles can wait.
~
The coffee is hot and the music’s down low.
I won’t ponder how the future might go.
For now, all’s good, no problems in sight.
This day is bright and I see the light.

~*~
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Skipper’s Lane

Around the bend from the church on main,
lies a quaint little street, called Skipper’s Lane.
T’was on this path a young lad dwelled,
before the streets’ name or the lad propelled.
~
The tale goes: At the head of a cove the sandbar’s long.
The water’s choppy and the currents strong.
A young lad fished, he netted all day.
At sunset he rowed to the town up the bay.
~
He traded his catch for supplies and some cash.
He then rowed back home and buried his stash.
Years soon passed and the lad’s now a man.
The time was now to dig up an old can.
~
The cans held his savings, he’s more than a few.
The man, now called Netty, had something to do.
Netty rowed into town, to buy but not sell.
He bought a new boat with a bright shiny bell.
~
He towed the boat home not knowing how to sail.
A year’s practice behind then caught in a gale.
Netty stayed calm, his life, spent afloat.
Home was in sight when he saw a tossed boat.
~
The boat missed the inlet, now blowing out to sea.
Though Netty unsure, he could not leave them be.
Adjusting his sails Netty raced to give aid.
Soaked and battered he would not be afraid.
~
Lost memories filled young Netty’s head.
Recalling the night, he was almost dead.
The sky was black and the water cold.
The ship sat heavy, filled with gold.
~
Remembering screams and cracking wood,
the ship’s bell rang, gone childhood.
The boy hit the water and woke on the shore.
The life he once knew was no more.
~
A crashing wave broke Netty’s trance,
one second more he’d lose his chance.
He leaned on his tiller to bring his boat near.
The boats colliding mustered everyone’s fear.
~
Netty thought quickly and dropped his sheet,
then heaved his net around a cleat.
He pulled and pulled with all his might.
His biggest catch was that stormy night.
~
All returned safely before the sun rose.
Netty now a hero was gifted new clothes.
New friends were made, now one’s Netty’s wife.
Recounting his memories he bought a new life.
~
The gold recovered, Netty bought lots of land.
He built a grand home well away from the sand.
The harbor in view he watches over his fleet.
The town, now prosperous, gave Netty a street.

~*~
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Bountiful Blossoms Blooming

Where bumble bees sing to morning blooms,
sunshine fills sleepy rooms.
Little birds chirp to ring in the day.
The town folk thrive and children play.
~
Evening’s all spent cozy and warm;
everyone huddles at word of a storm.
With a common goal of tranquility,
their smiles all share the harmony.
~
Freedom reigns and peace assured,
caring for all, we’re all adored.
And though this place is yet to be found,
in dreams we meet when feet leave the ground.

~*~
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Keeping Spirits

Nature batters, scarring far and wide.
Forgotten battles forever tied.
Man and rock bear the loss of all who’ve died.
Rugged faces change with the changing of a tide.

Keeping the wary from a watery hell,
a craggy post a dutiful keeper dwell.
Keeping by day his glass shined bright,
by night he keeps his flame alight.

Warning all comers never to near,
this beacon of virtue is only to fear.
Bravely they stand against wind and wave,
the ocean master, keeper slave.

Chores of many, companions none.
Sleep begins when work is done.
Ventures end before the dark.
His light stands silent awaiting spark.

Beyond this rock and choppy cove,
a small town lie where tales are wove.
Stories of stormy seas abound,
and faraway lands where treasure’s found.

In town sits a churchyard overlooking the sea.
Where the keeper visits when a calm day’s free.
Collects his needs quickly, no time for desire.
His row is long to return to his fire.

Scores of seasons drifted behind.
The keeper and kept, two of a kind.
Their toils unnoticed, yet seen by all.
Keeping kept the keepers call.

Reflections of stars upon the sea.
Infinite horizons awaiting he.
A beacon to all, his lamp not aglow.
To see the light the keep did go.

The town sad for their keeper unknown.
He was buried with care as one of their own.
At the edge of the churchyard lie the keep.
With eternal vistas of the light and the deep.

Dozens of keepers tried to keep.
All had left quickly, missing their sleep.
Stories told of the old keeper’s ghost.
A most spirited and demanding of host.

He rattled windows and slammed doors,
once hid away the old rowboats oars.
His steps are heard on the stairs all night,
sometimes blowing out the lighthouse’s light.

On a chilly morn some years past,
a storm was brewing, approaching fast.
A hardy young sailor paddled for the light,
racing the waves ahead of the night.

With setting sun and drenching rain,
wind and waves pummeled, no refrain.
Shores altered with the rising tide,
The hilltop churchyard couldn’t hide.

The keeper’s remains returned to sea.
The young sailor now keeps – happily.
And ever since that fateful day,
the old keeps spirit kept at bay.

Sck102415dft

Morning Triku #166 ~ We Are

~
Grays are Lies

To write with the dawn,
sky’s to rise to brilliant eyes.
To her I am drawn.

~
Tests Are

Sunday mornings are:
times of quiet and peaceful rest,
shared zest, feeling best.

~
We Are We

We are as we are.
We’re at the place that we are.
We choose who we are.

~*~
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None Amiss

It was a rainy night at the beach.
Wishing a walk but out of reach.
The sun set, the stars slept.
The moon hid and the clouds wept.

The quiet masked in crashing seas.
And a little chill rides the breeze.
Yet warmth’s felt hand in hand.
Memories tickle of toes in the sand.

The nights wish changed when we kissed.
The stars will return, tonight unmissed.

~*~
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Makes My Head Spin

I watched the sun rise,
with big sleepy eyes,
while I wait for the day to begin.

There’s a chill in the air,
but warmth’s always there,
from a heart that lies within.

Soon I will see,
what love’s meant to be,
with a simple touch of your skin.

Thoughts start to flow,
on paper they grow,
my lips form a grin.

Thinking of you,
and for me what you do,
today I’m sure to win.

~*~
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In the Clear

Today I’m lost and can’t find my way.
I look toward the sky to guide the day.
The sky was blue; I shared a smile.
Still, I’m lost but gained a mile.
~
I look to the ground; I’ve a path to find.
The ground was hard; my steps were kind.
Yet still I wander, walking on air.
My head’s in the clouds, inward stare.
~
I look straight ahead, my path’s now known.
Each step forward is another step grown.
Journeys all end, destination’s the same.
Directions clear, be glad you came.

~*~
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To Day

Today will be different than yesterday.
Yesterday was sunny, today it’s gray.
Yesterday was warm with skies of blue.
Today is rainy and there’s nothing to do.
~
Oh, I’ve projects o’many, my list is long.
The radio blasts yet another old song.
With pencil in hand my mind goes astray.
I’ll scribble on paper things I don’t say.
~
Today will be different, I’ve changes to make.
Yesterday was wasted, but I did buy a rake.
Yesterday’s gone, its memory will wane.
Today is here and I’ve a future to gain.
~
I’ve done some bad, but mostly good deeds.
Now I’ve all the things that one really needs.
And for love, joy, health and youth I’m glad.
I scribble today: three out of four ain’t bad.

~*~
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