nature

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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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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Common Sense

A world at peace, perhaps a dream,
with goals shared as a team.
A future bright for one and all,
tomorrows fears then are small.
~
Common ills conquered without bloodshed,
pessimism starved when all are fed.
Optimism shines brightening our days,
nights restful when worry strays.
~
Children are joyful when parents secure.
Generations prosper when time is sure.
Growth’s insured without need,
when the common good we all heed.

~*~
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Well, Almost

We live on a sphere, well almost,
surrounded by air, they the host.
Warmed by a star, pulled by a moon.
We’ve day and night, both come too soon.
~
We’ve loads of life but most unseen,
covered in rock, water and green.
There’s lots of smells, feelings and sounds.
We’ve love and laughter, yet danger surrounds.
~
Failures abound, they’re always free.
We’re fully exposed to freely see.
We can be tasteful, and risk being eaten.
We can be colorful but risk a bad beaten.
~
Lie, cheat and steal and then freely boast.
We’ve the freedom to choose, well almost.
We’ve still time to finish what we start.
Well, almost there; war or art?
~*~
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Tic, Tic, Tic…

When values are charismatic
and thought becomes plutocratic,
participation is devoid.
Then hardship is systematic.
~
When this world seems dramatic
and our head’s full of static,
anger’s then employed.
And hate becomes pragmatic.
~
When life, it seems erratic
and joy becomes sporadic,
worry fills the void.
Then the gloom is traumatic.
~
When time itself is problematic
and the future’s enigmatic,
trust is then destroyed.
And solitude becomes symptomatic.
~
But when we are diplomatic
and compassion’s automatic,
violence we avoid.
Then love is democratic.

~*~
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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.

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Picture’s Read

~
Life creates the lines we wear.
They’re traced upon the face we share.
Smiles turned up spread everyday joy.
Pouty faces think heart’s a toy.
~
Lips arced down build no bridges.
Crinkled brows scaled ridges.
Eyes bright glow through the night,
eyes down dwelt shade their light.
~
Enthusiasm shines with a spark.
Heartache shines in the dark.
Time wrinkles the more we press.
Smooth is felt, not a guess.
~
Directions clear when maps unfold.
Routes we’ve drawn, our story told.
Hellos leave more to see.
Loves image is good bye free.
~
I wish for the lines of long ago.
I wish to watch that of another grow.
A fateful glance we’re sure to know,
little things make the big picture show.

~*~
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Patchwork

I woke today in a fog.
But autumn’s now in view.
There’ll be more days of sky high temps,
though fortunately just a few.
~
My body’s burned with a patchwork tan,
the grass a patchwork of brown.
Smiles await bluer skies,
but for now I’ve still a frown.
~
Perhaps today I’ll write a poem,
better than those before.
I used to say that every day,
but now I’m not so sure.
~
Like the seasons, time does change,
creativity comes and goes.
Inspiration’s all around,
but negativity grows and grows.
~
I need a cool crisp morning,
with leaf of red and gold.
Though summers can be wonderful,
this one’s getting old.
~
Maybe it’s just a fantasy,
thinking words will find their way.
Maybe the fantasy’s over,
of being joyous every day.
~
Peering up from my lap,
I see the fog starting to clear.
Though my paper is still blank,
I know a story’s near.
~
My eyes now wide open,
my pencil’s sharp and new.
Optimistically I scribble a word,
the clouds now but few.
~
One word turns to another,
a third leads to a line.
Verses soon will follow,
and again the day is mine.
~
I’m glad this patchwork is over.
And I’m sure that you are too.
I’m thankful for your time today,
my inspiration being you.

~*~
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Seasonal Repetitions

Autumn’s now upon us, leaves soon to fall,
Halloween’s next and the witches’ ball.
Then comes Thanksgiving, turkeys best beware.
We’ll all give our thanks then devour our share.
~
But then it’s winter and snow glazes our thought.
Christmas sneaks up and we give things we bought.
New Year’s follows and we all share a toast.
Then we long for Valentines to indulge who we love most.
~
We wait in gloom for spring to see flowers sprout.
The days now growing longer, jackets now in doubt.
Summer arrives to much fanfare, hot dogs fill our guts.
We’ll bake in the noon day sun, I think that we’re all nuts.
~
Then summers shine finally dims.
We’ll wish for fall and cover limbs.
And another year now is done.
And another year’s now begun.
~
Every season is a special time.
Some have favorites and that’s no crime.
Some may feel that they all are bad.
But not the poets and for that I’m glad.

~*~
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The Fallen

Summer love leads to fall.
Autumnal changes effects all.
Leaves turn, soon to drop.
Life moves on and won’t stop.
.
Chills felt to the bone.
Warmth’s gone when alone.
Seasons cycle as they must.
Tomorrows come, we have to trust.
.
Truth felt in the heart.
Minds make lies art.
Sleep’s unknown for many a night.
Sadness fills each line I write.
.
If not loved a future is to find.
If not a poet, perhaps then blind.
Hues created we want to see.
Now the fall’s here for you and me.

~*~
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No Surprise

Cold and rainy, windy and gray,
it’s the other kind of autumn day.
Colorful hues now go unseen,
memories fade of summer’s green.
~
The chill reminds of a time that’s near.
In shades of white we’ll spread our cheer.
Then a year that’s new but just the same.
Resolutions made but just buy name.
~
Spring will come and usher rebirth.
Warmth’s to follow; we feel its worth.
Then back to autumn, life will change.
We know it’s coming but it feels strange.
~
Another year has come and gone.
Some rejoice, some will mourn.
Each year bringing a new surprise,
how it’s seen is through our eyes.

~*~
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Thoughtful

With the rain comes the sun,
for every hardship there is fun.
With the laughter there are tears,
every second shapes our years.
~
With all the sorrow there is joy.
For every girl there’s a boy.
For every day there is night.
The choice is ours to see the light.
~
Hearts beat while unaware.
Music’s made when two’s to share.
Harmony’s felt when both in sync.
And answers found when we think.

~*~
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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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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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