nature

Middling Thoughts

I’m too old to paint in tempera, takes too long to dry.

I’m too young to sculpt a headstone, since I won’t soon die.

I’m too old to swim the channel, don’t like being cold and wet.

I’m too young to drown in sorrow with so little to regret.

I’m too old to chase maidens through spring fields anew.

Though now the times just right to share all I have with you.

~

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Share the Buzz

There once was a once upon a time.
Actually there’s many and some do rhyme.
So here it goes another like the rest.
It might not be the worst but won’t be the best.
~
Once upon a time there was;
bees in a garden sharing a buzz.
They flutter high and they flutter low,
they flit where they need to go.
~
They all know each other, each by name.
But humans think they’re all the same.
Unwittingly perhaps, speciesists are we,
but they don’t need us as we need the bee.
~
They grow our food and sweeten our tea,
an absolute necessity, don’t you agree?
So next time you see one, share their buzz.
Cos without them our once will be was.

~*~
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Morning Triku II

My Love

A look, touch – A kiss

Hands, bodies – Tactile bliss

Love – Nothing’s amiss

 ~

My Friend

Heart strings stroked feel heat

Neck caressed long and sweet

Rhythm head to feet

 ~

Begin’d

How humans learned

They died for knowledge yearned

Trial and error’d

 

~*~

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Be the Wind

The will of the wind with the air that be,

summons the roar from a silent sea.

When this air too shall roar,

a mighty sea bombards a shore

~

When the wind and sea collude-

all’s consumed all the more.

Can a roaring wind be silenced-

 or will it roar for evermore?

~

A question answered best in rhyme;

The shores are life, the sea is time.

The air is those around us, crying to be free.

And the wind with its will – a roaring poet be.

*

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First Snow

The first snow of the year
fell while we all slept.
We woke to a world of white;
all’s eerily wind-swept.
~
The outside’s frigid cold,
no need to go out yet.
This storm will last all day,
there’s plenty of time to fret.
~
The sidewalk must be shoveled
and the driveway too.
The steps will need some salt
to track in on my shoe.
~
My cats will be upset;
they’re not going out today.
I’ll give them a little catnip;
I wish I too could play.
~
But soon this day will end
and a fire I’ll then light.
I’ll snuggle with my sweetheart,
cozy through the night.
~
The first snow’s always fun,
a feast for seasoned eyes.
But after that we wait for spring
and warm, clear blue skies.

~*~
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Shades of Dark

Sonnets of emotion; love and devotion

Poetry of gloom and despair

Words that swell from within

Seeping doubt and fear

.

Alas the pen will scrape the bottom

Of the well I wish to dry

But brittle, little shards of black

Have crusted in my eye

.

Tears will form, puddles made

And ink again will flow

Pools crinkle up my sheets

The sunrise makes them glow

.

Perhaps today a limerick

A laugh to share with all

Or maybe a teeny tiny Haiku

Powerful yet small

.

The mornings bring answers

Always something new

But as the day brightens

I find I have no clue

.

The sun is high and I am low

Waiting for the night

There I’ll share my world with demons

Where the dark share equal sight

.

~*~

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Global Types

Sex, size, color and age

All are things we instantly gauge

All depending on our points of view

Seven billion, give or take a few

~

Hair, clothes, face an eyes

All are things we choose to disguise

All dependent on another’s view

But just one decides and that’s you

~

Stereotypes, media-hypes, everybody’s taking swipes

Each one sharing in each other’s gripes

Yet share we must to survive

While still we share, being alive

~*~

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A Little Proof

The forest is gone where once a home.
A people lost, now destined to roam.
Legends of old speak of their race,
though only of blurs, never a face.
~
Smaller than dwarves, bigger than fairies,
their language mistaken for frantic canaries,
they’re easily missed being so small.
A full grown adult’s barely twelve inches tall.
~
Their numbers blossomed to one hundred per tree.
Nature, their home, they could be no more free.
They chose to stay hidden, out of harm’s way.
The choice wasn’t theirs, they learned the hard way.
~
The giants invaded with axes in hand.
They chopped and cut for towns they had planned.
Centuries have passed and the invasion persists.
The Liluns survived but only few still exist.
~
They still choose to hide and that’s probably good.
As the giants don’t always do as they should.
Their wishes fulfilled at whatever the cost.
This story’s the proof of the many who’ve lost.

~*~
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Relies

There’s a quiet in the darkness,
our sun yet to rise.
Beauty’s still in hiding,
only truth’s before our eyes.
~
Soon the dawn will beckon,
shedding the world’s disguise.
Silence then a memory,
light exposing the lies.
~
The world now filled with sunshine,
always a pleasant surprise.
Then we wait for the sunset,
again to feel we’re wise.
~
By day we have distraction,
evenings we revise.
Sleep brings us solace,
giving strength to ask the whys.
~
Questions fill our heads,
life’s answers we surmise.
Half asleep or awake,
tomorrow is our prize.

~*~
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Imagining Real Fantasy

Grunts, growls, nods and shrugs
Smiles, laughter, kisses and hugs
Ashes smeared on homes rock wall
Soon words flow free, seemingly natural

.

Lessons learned, lessons shared
Lessons remembered, fierce feared
Nurtures nudged, natures shaped
Bodies tortured, minds raped

.

Minds make from minds made
Mountains tumble, foundations laid
Sky’s scraped, outer spaced and arms raced
Hole in the sky, Earth’s tears cry, life traced

.

Trails, trials, words and meanings don’t just appear
Nothing’s truly discovered if someone’s already there
We learn from others mistakes, less from their good
We do all the things that we’re told we should

.

We learn from books written by others, as they choose
Remembering what we choose, when in pretty prose
Reality is, as what fantasy was
History’s reality that was just because

.

So because became to hide the shame
But the causes that cause are still the same
History’s posted now, in real-time
Fantasy posted all the time

.

Reality’s fantasy some of the time
Fantasy’s reality most of the time
Most everything we hear, feel, think and see
Imagined and created just for us, thus fantasy

.

I speak in riddle, write in rhyme
Never say much, most of the time
When speaking I stutter, ramble and blather
So when thinking, write I’d rather

.

Then edit out space in-between
With the time never to be seen
Then post to a post I write as a ghost
A post that I host to share with the most

.

I can’t imagine a fantasy more real
When reality’s made with fantastical zeal
Just a note, I make stuff up; don’t know if it’s true
I’m just real confused, I imagine, just like you

.

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Gone Fish’n

A boat ride changed my life,
the sun soon to rise.
The air brisk, I didn’t care,
answers await my eyes.
~
The sky begins to glow,
my vision’s now in view.
Time seemed to stop,
my life’s now to do.
~
My feet hit the ground,
head stuck in the clouds.
Peace finally at hand,
no bustling of the crowds.
~
The gulls sang me welcome,
the trees waved hello.
A path leads me forward,
my future to bestow.
~
Day turned into night,
stars guide my way.
Memories flood my mind,
the past, I have no say.
~
Questions were abound,
slumber won the race.
Awakened by a breeze,
little kisses on my face.
~
My plan now in limbo,
storm clouds filled the skies.
My lesson was then learned,
truth’s behind the eyes.
~*~
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Sedentary Travels

My day begins before the sun’s rise.
My cat meows and I open my eyes,
I stumble downstairs and she gets fed.
If the weather’s bad we go back to bed.
~
If the weather’s good we’ll stay awake.
I’ll boil some water and coffee I’ll make.
Then off to the porch, facing due east.
The sky lights up and eyes will feast.
~
The dark now shed the future’s begun.
We’ve choices to make; good, bad or fun.
I choose fun because that’s always good.
The bad’s unchosen that’s understood.
~
An hour passes and sometimes two.
Where the time goes I have no clue.
Often I write or just sit and ponder.
I think of life and what I squander.
~
The sun gets high, the workday’s soon.
There’ll be hustle and bustle till late afternoon.
The clock ticks slower thinking of home.
Then back to the porch where minds can roam.

~*~
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Poultry Dreams

In the name of man’s greed and chicken feed,
a farmer hatched his scheme to succeed.
He’d create a chicken with numerous wings.
Then, he too, could soar with the like’s kings.
~
Wings sell well but they sell way too cheap.
But if he had more the more he would reap.
He mortgaged his house and sold his truck.
He kept his old dog who brought him luck.
~
His wife kicked him out to sleep in the hay.
The breeding was started the very next day.
Time quickly passed and soon it was a year.
Most thought him a fool, although sincere.
~
With a cock-a-doodle-do he rose with the sun.
The day would be his, full of pride, joy and fun.
He sprinted to the house to fetch his ex-wife,
who had recently remarried to start a new life.
~
They walked to the barn, after some yelling.
The closer they got the more they were smelling.
With the odor intense, the farmer opened the door.
And with one big swoosh his hopes were no more.
~
His most wonderous chickens all flew the coop.
And the poor farmer left with only their poop.
The lesson of course being evolution’s not a race.
And those who disbelieve get egg on their face.

~*~
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