The Daffodil, peeks at the yellow rays of the Morning Sun
She raises her head :through the withering snow mound : with Dazzling Beauty
The Daffodil , Sings in harmony; Arise for I am : the Spring
The Golden weed, the Dandelion , reflects the yellow Halo Floating in the Sky
Knowing Life is short ,the Dandelion dots the Summer landscape
With Her Halo turning White, She calls the Wind and flies through the rays of the Sun
Goldenrod waits until summer is nigh o’er before waving elegantly
To the Yellow orb, warming her roots, She melodiously Sings Forever be Your Glory
The Goldenrod , humbly Hums Hymns : to the very Eye of a Loving GOD
Yellow Roses speak of the Memories : “watching the grass “Sportsman’s WAVE””
She sees the Glory of Nature : more Beautiful with each Magnificent : Sunrise
Yellow Roses, petals so Silky Soft, holding in “ Remembrance “ a long Lost “ LOVE “
The “ AquaRose “ that Grows, in the deep Caribbean Sea “4 miles North of Aruba”
Screams For the Sun, from her watery Grave, Yet she shines in a sea of “ Sapphire
" Blue "
The Depth of the “Blue sea, the Blue Sky above” Shadow the glow of Sweet
" Sunshine "
Inspired by the Contest : " Flowers " : Sponsored by Francine Roberts
Dedicated To my LOVES : " Barbara Jean " & " Lenore Ellen "
Author's Note : I Hope this is Read the way it was Written
YOUR Liege ALWAYS, LOVE : HGarvey Daniel Esquire
7th Place win
it’s always august’s end
that bothers me the most
i feel that brush of cool air
press against me
like a kiss on dead lips
the trees are now painted
a sunset’s reflection
but all i see is red
in summer’s end
the leaves dance gracefully
beneath the winds
one last time
before they fall
the trees will soon stand
blank of life
like you and you and you
and my mind
as i remember
as i watched them
fall from life
amongst summer’s end
WATCHING A SUMMER STORM IN DOYLESTOWN
I was laid to rest,
my death keeps getting better.
If you find me here, you know, I'm yours to keep.
I could try to say
I love you in this letter,
or pretending you are here, sing you to sleep.
If the world was mine,
I find it quite amusing,
I would give it all away, to see your eyes,
I would save your life,
and everything you're losing,
all because you never see who's telling lies.
I am just as dead
as is your heart each morning.
If the wind has blown, you know I will be there.
I will touch your life,
without much of a warning,
never look for me, just know I'm everywhere.
I'm a summer storm,
my hope is crashing thunder.
I'm a lightning bolt, my love is five alarm.
if I rain all night,
it's just a spell I'm under,
you should know I'm dead, and won't do any harm.
I'm a little boy.
An old man getting younger.
All I have is how I know how things should be.
We still want the world
to live in death and hunger,
yet I love your eyes, when your eyes look at me.
I do not know?
From bright colors even the brightest blond turns grey.
Grown men now stand.
Were once young children did play.
The once new cover.
Is now tattered and torn.
time has all but erased the oaths once proud men had sworn.
The field now overgrown still haunts memories of the blue and grey.
Old worn headstones markers of were they'll forever lay.
No bell to ring no voice shall call.
The ghosts of the past erased by spring summer and fall.
The old porch stands hidden by a overgrowth of vines.
Now blank are the boards that once were painted signs.
The blood followed swiftly from the wound of the past.
To forge a path to a time that could never last.
Gone is the tree that once stood so very tall.
Forgotten by time
So is the legend of spring summer and fall.
i met you in the springtime when the flowers were in bloom
and i knew yyou were my angel when you walked into the room
i knew that god had sent you down on the wings of a big white dove
just to be with only me and tto bring angelic love
our hands were ever so entwined and united were our hearts
we knew that we would walk together until death did we part
when sprringtime turned to summer we were happy as could be
and i just could not imagine all the love you had for me
now when summer turned to autumn and we felt the gentle breeze
i was ever so elated because you were still with me
but the time has turned the pages and i am so all alone
today god sent other angels just to guide my angel home
A summer rose fades
One by one its petals fall
In downward spiral
Scattered by an autumn breeze
It's fragrance a memory
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.
'They' tell me, now,
A husky-mix dog won't stay.
Tie 'em up, pen 'em,
Or the neighbor's complain.
So, I didn't even Look for another Cain.
But let me tell you,
My Cain dog was Husky.
Silver and grey and a
'from the toenails' growl...
But HE stayed, no chains.
Small town, Oklahoma, no leash.
Everybody knows everybody; me and Cain,
Bicycle riding, summer days.
Grandma Dugan waving,
Mr. John Long tossing out soup bones,
"Yonder's thet Earli and her dawg."
"Boy! Pur-D-hot! Wisht'id rain."
"Wonder whar she's going 'ta noon?"
Nap, doze, one more summer gone...
But...so was Cain.
"Hey Earlie? Thet you, girl?"
"Whar's thet big white dawg?"
"Oh yeah?" "Too bad." and "How'd he die?"
"You don't hardly seem like Earli,
Without thet white dog, Cain."
Ten long, hard years and lots of road.
But no white dog's shoulders
To share the good times...or the pain,
And...I don't hardly FEEL like Earli,
Without my white dog, Cain.
Blue is of envy of that of judges,
That love that warms that a man of affection,
Oh how it bleeds for society and play’s it short of necessary,
The question; is what ruins?
Play it by a flute to see nothing but corporate and disloyalty,
To be amending just to be sited I call it just fitting.
Can you hear Uncle Tom cry…?
Then please why don’t you answer the call!!!
Count your blessing that is what they would all ways say,
But I ask you why do we have amendments?
I sight life,
I sight so I write,
Note king tides if you might,
"I have made all but one mistake",
As I take flight.
I say to a type writer does it even really matter,
But never the less I never been the type to write.
I am on knees and elbows but I write for tonight.
Look to sky for a guardian angel for my wife,
For you boo I cross the sea and the ocean,
And stare death in the face,
And laugh once or twice.
What seconds become of minutes…?
Standing closes to the shore,
Lord bring me close to my love,
Even if it just a note I’m missing you as I swore,
I wonder if love can reach home only of we share a same star maybe that is a theology,
But don’t quote me this early,
As I ask what will I have for lunch?
Staring deeper and deeper into the abyss,
Just second remind before a flood hits the gate,
Morning more and more,
But still I stand a man I say,
As I wash near to bay.
I dare to ask if any other man can make such a pledge,
I dare you not,
War is not love,
War loves no one,
A request from a gentleman to delivery;
A letter to my fair lady,
What becomes’ of holidays.
Dear summer 12-12-12
Already the leaves are staining red,
Blood, too thin, seeps through taut skin,
Capillaries weak walled and weeping;
Dying Summer bows proud head,
Emptied of green glory;
Filled, fiery cauldrons blaze red-orange,
Golden flamed tongues glowing.
How harsh that she must fly
Into the great beyond,
Jettisoned like a human soul
Killed before its time.
Letting go, whether fast or slow,
Makes no variance in the pain;
Numbingly, it strikes the heart
Over and over again.
Passionate, she would linger,
Queenly in her floral gown,
Regaled for stunning splendor;
Sympathy never his approach,
Time beats a strong percussive stroke
Unstoppable, dispensed in quick cadence.
Valiantly she struggles, clinging,
While wild winds hew each leaf down;
Xylogenous lichen sparsely veils
Yearning limbs laid vulnerable and bare:
Zephyrus and Chloris frolic there no more.
Note: Zephyrus, the gentle god and personification
of the west wind, the bringer of light spring and
summer breezes in Greek mythology; he abducted
and fathered children with the goddess Chloris and
gave her the domain of flowers.
Xylogenous - living on or in wood
August 15, 2014
Upon my knees in desperation the parched sand trickles through my hand
the steady drumbeat of Summer's song rolls like death across the land
The winds of Winter wait,
Whispering to me of the approaching future,
But still far off, biding their time
Until this span of light and warmth has lasted out its stay.
Meantime, I engage myself in taking stock;
Compiling the days that define myself to myself
Enlarging the catalog so far as I can,
Building up a narrative.
So many memories
Like fireflies in a Summer's night
Flash through the dark spaces of my mind.
Young Parenthood: Flash
Empty Nest: Flash.
Family, friends, events
Joys, sorrows, beginnings, endings -
All make their flickering passages;
All paint their images onto me
The particles dance and shift
Cells die to be replaced
The face in the mirror becomes my father's
Molecule by molecule
With each passing instant.
The particles dance and shift
Moving back towards the dark unknown
From which they came,
Yet somehow in the midst of it
The I that was
And shall be
Remains to watch the long parade unfold.
And that parade, banal and fantastic,
Marches past that inside window where I watch to see myself pass by,
As some newer self shall do the same through all tomorrows
Until the day when all the marching stops for me -
And then, my fellow marchers,
O my many, varied Loves,
On that last Winter's day,
Where will we be,
Where will we be?
What musics shall we hear?
What wonders might we see?
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.
21 February 2013
Oh, tragic feather what is thy tragedy
No longer freedom gay or certian loft
How is this thy new translation
From a majesty, unto a wing thou hath mighty dropped
Were thou thus, shunned, cast away
Or merely, cut out or off
As limb from downward spiral angel
Perhaps, a troubled finch or insanity in wayward hawk
Lie, if thou must, be it amidst a deafening silence, lonesome soft
But, I plead, please tell me fallen feather, what hath befallen thee
Thy tuft to ne’er evermore touch again
What life should be, warmth of the summer's breeze
Sleep, sleep now 'neath the alley's gutter greys
Catching Weeping Willows damning drops
Adrift as the drowning lily dying
In seas of the myriad scattered rots
An accomplice I shall say, within a winter's willing white
And alas, buried ordinary in this doth the corpse delight
Far beneath the crowds held at bay and forever lost
Now thou hath become the naked grove of wicker and then...
the more of naked souless crops
A lovely day that brought for series of endearing moments -
From the boat ride on the sea shore to the horizon of wide blue-green ocean
His eyes wander- like a fisherman’s hope-
Waiting, counting, and watching in close detail every scene to observe
The waves touched the wooden paddle with astray -strong hump.
His hand grips mine, a careful touch of comfort
I guess he was scared from the uncertain buoyancy of water waves to balance.
Then he gazed up as if trying to catch the approaching sunlight beam
and inhale in deep gratitude for the next tides were about to catch.
My Heart stops—and beats aloud.
I was astonished for a moment, captive by the boy,
How he become someone new- Someone who attracts vulnerability of natures beauty and deceitful threads on fear of the unknown.
Should I smile dearly to hide my amusement?
Or let the clear blue waves mirror the admiration of my heart?
I let be.
Reaching an island of hopes and wishes,
We walked to discover what lies beneath.
I found the lovely pebbles by the sand then collectively picked each purely form corals
He told me- These could mean more than the Jewelry I have to treasure.
He- then, found a solid rock formation from the mountain floors-
I told him, this shelter can make you feel haunted and home
And we laugh with ambivalent for our mischief.
By noon we swim with the fishes
And patiently waits for the sunset to kiss his lovely sea,
just like how it kissed our skinned to tanned.
He leaned and gave me embraces as the sky slowly turned
to a beautifully lighted darkness-
I felt warmed, and secured by his unexplained gestures.
He lie next to me, as He count my wishes as a cursed
To the stars that have to sacrifice and die.
I told him- not to worry about the dying stars instead live gazing up to thank them every night, and he smiled forcefully.
And we slept together through the calm sea sand bed..
He was all with me in an island of yesterday’s summer
He was completely there, before I close my eyes,
Before the wind blows cold, before the sunsets turned grey-
And my ashes returned to seas.
I do not know?
The cash and carry of love
Which summer doth requisite
When will thou birth me a dove?
Soon autumn will bid for hunt- 5
To gratify winter’s drudge
Oh! Far is the sight of spring
None can pacify better
For season flies without wings
And quick does it charm scald beauty
Of whose time shall be pleaded? 10
As vaguely summer doth leave
Crow beckons with a caw
The womb that is long barren
Whom for eon is not loved
And in earth’s hate it joy is lost 15
Quick drains life off it victim
Death, it is a sad way to go,
to leave this earth, dressed in your Sunday best
While faces surround you with tears
breaking the barriers of their emotions
tearing their hearts apart, looking down
upon my stone face, upon the face, lays a simplistic smile
that shows no emotion, no teeth, no life.
Death, it is a sad way to go.
People hurry, say their goodbyes,
but when your alive,
they never come around, they never call, they never even think
of you and how you are feeling.
While you walk the streets, with a smile on your face,
nothing but knives stick sharpe in my back and gossip
burns a hole in my soul and heart;
but I keep on walking and smiling.
I keep rolling on through like a summer hurricane
tears apart a coastal city in the heat of June weather,
Walking till death comes to shake my hand and grin at my soul.
Then as you lay their in your casket
with a buqouet of your favorite flowers, (Roses and Tulips)
they sit around you, the same faces, the same blind eyes
and they all shed tears and says good things.
Too late for that don't you think?
Death, it is a sad way to go, but what relief you get,
when finally departing in peace and leaving the drama
and careless people in your life.
After I am put six feet under, a week of crying passes,
After two weeks I am lost and long forgotten,
nothing but a stone at my cranium to keep me company
and my new friends, who sleep along next to me.
Dead and forgotten, but the dead never forget their fellow lost souls.
Only the living forget such souls that were so good to them,
now they are gone,
I am gone.
How do you feel, now that I am gone?
Death, it is a sad way to go, but what peace you recieve in Paradise.
What was the
Crash like for
And too young to
Die without an
And you were
Like the other
Boys, with a brightness
and excitement for
Racing, in an SUV
You found the sleep
that so many of us
I do not know?
Summer dress she sews
Until her fingers bleed
Mending and mourning
Memories that will never be
Earsplitting new silence
Running through each stitch
Dress, mustard colored with stars
Embroidered with sadness, by confusion
A nightmare from which she can’t awaken
The last thing she will ever wear
Her summer dress made in grief
Death came for her too soon
Roses, white, will rest on her
Embraced by heaven’s angels
She is beautiful in the summer dress
Stitched by her sorrow stricken mother
As the Summer Sun
The Autumn frost
Spent three months waiting
To come and put
All those to sleep
I could not keep
Now the deed is
The willows weep
With leaves, they'll shun
The summer greens
Have turned to grey
Thus winters wind
Is on it's way
Snowy blanket or,
Shroud of death
The piecing chill of
I stand impatient
"Till it be done
And see once more
And in that day
When Sun is new
And does the job
It's destine too
My children will
All rise again
Until this cycle
Once more, begins
THE UNHOLY DEAD
He would take her to heaven if she chose to go
but her world's just a place for the dead,
if she had a solution he wanted to know,
in a while it would be in his head.
All her world is a place for the unholy dead
she might answer his question two times,
in a while he might see, but will lose it instead
holding out for an answer that rhymes.
she might answer his question, and answer it twice,
"yes I love you but don't want to go,"
so he holds out much longer because of the price
of the things that he never should know.
"Yes I love you but it's not time for me to leave,"
she has told him, but didn't explain,
"Love is something you never should know nor believe,
unless you are a sweet summer rain."
Yes she told him, but didn't tell all that she knows,
he can't see how she loves him so much,
like a sweet summer rain she appears and then goes
to the heaven he wants her to touch.
He can't see how she loves him, his heart is so blind,
nor that they are in heaven--but how?
And he wants so to touch her, and then he will find
they're together in heaven right now.
How they got to heaven, she said time and again,
"I have loved you much longer than me,"
and together in heaven, they see how love's been
for as long as a true love can be.
She has loved him much longer than sweet summer rain
and before she was ever a child,
for as long as a true love that's hard to explain,
from where-ever a true love is filed.
And before she was young, in her place of the dead,
they were younger than love ever knows,
and where-ever love is, in the heart or the head,
they've gone into where-ever love goes.
© ron wilson
wither my poppies
my mark is fresh like snow in air
brisk and mist will crisp on hair
fists ball up from risk to care
whisper and stare but all is fair
love and reason, flow like seasons
the endings blending and quite seeming
parts of hearts, tho awake or dreaming
half is seeing, the other believing
eyes align and beats will sync
eyes a line for heat to sink
taken quickly for a fall
lovers stroll through memories' hall
echoes stir sight and scent
my senses flight keeps suspense
until logic teaches what it meant
all good things come to an end
summer lighting longer days
more hours to burn for lovers lay
precious tokens we hope to stay
from constant change or parting ways
spring into action to save those astray
a few more years can cost a pay
with lives and sacrifice displayed
perhaps tomorrow will be okay
years can fly like clouds in sky
feelings revealing what to decide
and just like that were back to try
to love the same until we die
Snakes of Summer
All summer I saw them
as they scurried in front
of my whirling mower blades.
Some of them evaded the
The slower ones were halved
The first time this happened,
I was shocked and saddened.
The second time
angry at myself
for mowing the fields
I called home
and thought of as my private park.
I made adjustments.
I walked the field with my dog
before I mowed, chasing the
gopher snakes ahead of me to their dens.
These slow moving, diurnal creatures
usually sunned themselves in my field,
readying themselves for active nights
hunting lizards and rodents.
Their prey is suffocated by the
constriction of loops of their
chocolate spotted body, and
then they dine, shyly,
maybe a little remorseful
about what they’ve done.
I do not know?
Who takes the last breath in the summer sun?
I'll die in autumn disaster smiling for the purity I've seen
Sullen sun rain on me
A fleeing soul into the dark and deep
Kisses never here
Make me stone when i am dead
Take away my name
Tell god i've been shamed since Cesarean escape....
...I didn't know what I was getting into.....
I'll take my last look when the summer comes
One year I went to a summer school.
And there was a girl there
With shining eyes and
An award winning smile.
She was kind to everyone and
Excluded no one.
She always laughed with others
But you could go to her when you
We talked for hours and
Quickly became friends.
Last year I went back to summer school.
The girl was still there.
She had sad eyes but
Kept the award winning smile.
She was kind to everyone yet
She never laughed properly
But you could always go to her
when you needed it.
We talked for mere minutes and
I guess I lost a friend.
This year when I went to summer
The girl was no longer there.
Rumours of suicide surrounded
And no one was kind to us all.
Everyone excluded their-selves.
Silence consumed every thought and moment
Because no one was there when we
truly needed it.
Memories of talking haunted me and
I couldn't help but miss my friend.
Written November 17, 2013
The summer dies slowly
Into autumns arms
And winter does linger
Until spring breathes at dawn
I've fallen for you
Cast under your spell
My gaze as stone
As the old towne well
My face as pale
As the moon in the night sky
My heart unspoken
Left wondering why
These days are so chaotic
Yet these nights so serene
The bones of an animal
Who died in the cold
Have dried in the sun
Only a month or two old
The leaves had changed to rainbow hues and soon the trees were bare
And though you’re gone, I know, deep down, that you are always there
And while my heart is broken and my life’s become a trial
I’ll never lose the memory of the summer in your smile.
Snowflakes ride across the sky on keen edged winter winds.
The sun and moon light day and night, two dimly glowing twins
And ice-cased wires adorn the roads for mile on frozen mile
While I stay warm relaxing in the summer in your smile.
The world lies buried ‘neath a shroud of newly fallen snow
That rolls around and piles in drifts when frigid breezes blow,
But I know the chill can’t touch me with its icy fingers while
I spend my days basking in the summer in your smile.
Soon spring will be upon us, then summer’s hot and humid days
And the sunny days will all be blurred behind a teary haze,
But I’ll go on and do my best to make my life worthwhile
And live within the golden light from the summer in your smile.
My mind is dirt and this soil my curse
The seeds you plant in this heat make me worse
I just get so nervous, like I should believe
So perhaps I am wicked and not meant to be
And the steam that is rising
I have grown pale and swollen and sickly
Crocodile, crocodile, dry off your eyes
And take back your sorrowful, meaningless lies
I dream of your lovers, I wish for their deaths
Inside plastic bags, I will keep their last breaths
And with confined sighs, go north for a rest
I will leave with my murders and nothing will matter
Hot into cold, my love it will shatter
Beneath a deep snow, I will hibernate sweetly
And sleep off this hatred that binds me completely
I’ll pluck all my hairs, I’ll spin them for thread
To sew up the gashes I’ve put in your bed
And with mattress mended, go sleep with the dead
And the water that drips
Is forming a knife
My cheeks will be rosy devoid of past strife
My thoughts will be still when the earth has gone hard
The roots of your anger will leave my heart scarred
I just get so anxious, with all I believe
So perhaps I am wicked and not meant to be