A teal twilight inks cobalt silhouettes,
as shy stars unveil their flickering lights.
And shadows slink forth melding with the night,
while a sanguine sun feigns a scarlet death.
Crimson clouds cluster at horizon’s edge,
absorbing shades of cerise and purple.
And daylight shrinks to a brindled aura,
reflected by rusty crystals of ice.
Dusk weeps dewdrops grieving to no avail,
as dark dims the last vestiges of light.
And brisk breezes whisk heat away in gusts,
eerily chilling both body and soul.
Long skeletal fingers anchor the sky,
to a lone tree rooted in ebony.
And a marshmallow moon appears snagged,
in the netting of its Velcro branches.
Creatures of the dark stir from their slumber,
in the wake of a disappearing sun.
And as silence sets life bends to its will,
all but a cricket’s haunting piercing shrill.
Springs around the corner
what wondrous things we'll see,
bulbs popping up above the ground
giving joy to you and me,
time to tidy up our plot, lots of digging too,
weeds to pull, beds to hoe
lots of things will have to go.
You have to be a little brave
if that rose you want to save,
but you will learn that over time
you've got to be cruel, just to be kind,
The flower beds need a tidy
take all that dead stuff off the top,
veg plots being well dug over
hoping for a bumper crop.
Seeds to sow, hope they'll grow !
then the lawn will need a mow.
And when all the hard work is done
you can sit back and be pleased,
wind , rain and sun you have grown all you need.
Where have all the fairies gone
where do they go at night.
Do they take to the wing
and off they go in flight?
I thought that they were down
at the bottom of the garden path,
so when i'm in the garden
I look close down in the grass.
So why is it that when
I am tucked up in my bed
I can hear them laughing,
Or is it in my head?
I wish that I could tell you
just where those fairies be,
But when I go and look for them
they always seem to flee.
We've even had a fairy ring
upon our lawn appear,
But even then our search for them
they seem to disapear.
One day I'll find the fairies
but till then, even if I fail,
Il'll always believe in them
it's not a fairy tale.
If the world were full of hippies
there'd be nothing left to prove
except peace and understanding
and a little bit of groove
Noone would be homeless
Like many live today
We'd build beautiful communes
where anyone could stay
Together we'd make music
to the beat of mother earth
there'd be no fighting or war
Everyone sharing equal worth
We'd grow our own vegetables
and create trinkets to sell
We'd open up our minds
break free from our shell
Every colour and every race
would teach one another
we'd become a united family
every sister, every brother
We'd bless all gods creatures
show respect for the land
Give free hugs to everyone
openminded to understand
Nature would speak to us
Our world would become one
with peace and understanding
and a little bit of fun
T'was a warm summer's day, when I took to the trail,
to cruise that old black spruce, way down in the swale.
A gallon of bug dope was strapped on my hip,
which I figured would last me for most of the trip.
Down through the sphagnum I plowed like a moose,
a huffin' and puffin' and spittin' my snoose.
Then off in the distance, I heard a faint roar,
like B-29's coming home from the war.
The sky clouded over, so you barely could see,
"They're mosquitoes! "I cried, and they're coming for me.
They flew by me once and past me again,
a-flexing their stingers, before they moved in.
I grabbed for my bug dope and spread it on thick,
just hopin' and prayin', it would do the trick.
They came at me fiercely and punctured my hide,
But before they could drink much, they dropped off and died.
I thought to myself, "What type of bug dope is this?"
The mosquitoes all had smiles on, as they lay there in bliss.
After checking the label, I saw my mistake,
t'was the 100 proof whiskey, that Uncle Jake makes.
Creation energy in each atom glows.
Electron-bound sacred unity –
Thus, reverence for nature inside me grows
When I walk through rustling sheaves.
And I know in my heart power flows there,
In each cell throughout the trees –
And all the while I go with a smile,
Knowing joys that nature weaves.
By the energy bound within all compounds--
In the wind and in the trees –
A great strength from which honor mellows
Believes the joys nature conceives.
And this is why honor to nature goes,
And the universe receives: --
Form from a shapeless power emerged,
Physical matter conceives.
Afterward, substance gained its shape,
Now, the universe receives.
Tiny atoms shine their light
In each tree and in the leaves –
The beginning, surrounding as unity abounds,
Thus Pantheists…worship agrees –
Praises to nature! (a believer knows,
The universe its might weaves.)
Energy sparks verve, living…thrilling.
Starting life, an atom achieves.
Universal essence throughout nature astounds.
From one cell, another follows –
Spiritual mentality knows –
Realities sacredness nature resounds,
Within an elated heart billows,
Freeing the energy within all living souls.
Cosmic unity within man and trees –
As life’s passage one takes and of it sense makes,
Thinking of the trees and its leaves.
When, looking toward skies wherein night beauties rise
Worships nature and believes.
For thus it is, pantheist reverence nature’s pure bliss,
Adore natural matter; respect all that is.
For in trees and in the leaves –
Omnipotent universe perceives.
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
June 29, 2010
THANK YOU Deborah for this enlightening challenge. Please SEE MY BLOG on this.
Silent currents softly swirl
Around tree scented salty tears
Flowing forth from freshened forest
Awash from Summer’s seasoned years
Sunlight filtered through high branches
Causes mist to rise and glow
Gleaming in the golden fern
Drifting ghostly disappearing
Winsome weather wafted waves
Waking woods on Wednesday morning
Pauses kissed and shed of woe
Friendly forest fantasizes
As the life form warmly rises
Faerie elves and dwarfing dragons
Drift away in morning dew
Clarity of dawn is breaking
In the awesome reawakening
Another day is here anew
To spend in joy with you
The dawn was approaching, not a breath of air blew,
And the bass should be bitin', at the edge of the slough.
I gathered my tackle and shoved in the boat,
Not knowing whether, the blamed thing would float.
A pull on the kicker, got old Betsy churnin',
To the home of the large-mouth, for which i'd been yearnin'.
The boat snaked on through, the lily-pad carpet,
Toward an old sunken log, as black as a tarpit.
Don't ask me how, but I knew he'd be there,
Just awaitin' to be pulled, from his watery lair.
With a flick of the wrist, the lure sped toward the log,
Which stuck from the water, at the edge of the bog.
The silence was shattered, as the bass took the bait.
You could see in his eyes, the feeling of hate.
I had him hooked firmly, in the side of the lip,
And he couldn't get loose, no matter how he should flip.
I guessed that he'd weigh, no less than twelve pounds,
For he was straining my tackle, beyond all its' bounds.
An hour went by, but he fought just as strong.
He had to give in, 'cause I couldn't last long.
Finally the old lunker, turned on it's side,
And slid in the net, with mouth opened wide.
But after I weighed him, I found to my plight,
He'd lost over ten pounds, during this long and hard fight!
Have you ever listen to the sounds of rain ,
As it pitter patters against your window pain?
The sound is like music and it is so sweet,
As it gathers in a puddle around your feet.
Rain coat and boots is what you need to wear,
To keep the rain out,and stay dry under there.
Without little rain drops, where would we be?
All dried up and blowing in the breeze.
Flowers need rain drops as much as the sun,
They spread thier little leaves to catch every one.
Into the ground the little rain drops do go ,
To help the roots to get strong and grow.
Rain drops make a pond where fish can swim,
Without the water we would not have them.
To watch them swin around here and there,
Makes one wonder how they got there.
The oceans are vast ,with water everywhere,
But without that first drop of water ,the land would be bare.
There would be no trees ,no brush , no grass,
If the rain drops stoped falling, nothing would last.
The next time your out walking and it starts to rain,
Remember the little rain drops will cause you no pain.
Hold out your hand and you will see,
Little rain drops were sent from heaven for you and for me.
Sea of blue,
crags of white,
For this is world of white
white mountains of ice,
blue sea salty and true
midnight sun on icy wastes,
cool reflected light,
not to everyone's taste
Stark white cold,
wind eroded columns of ice
roar of wind
roar of sky
Icebergs scattered in the blue
raw wind strips me bare,
the environment does not care....
Sea,sky and ice,
nature's freezing cocktail,
man cannot sacrifice.
to touch the senses
Inhospitable sea,sky and ice,
its very extremes,
to prevent men of this world
carrying out their dreams
Pure cold energy roaring,
with bitter intent,
Nature's cold refuge,
from man and his dreams.
White armour protects,temperature deflects,
world of white and blue
I heard a little rumor from
a stranger on the road today;
he wore a heavy veil of dusk
to keep the winter's song at bay.
His face was well concealed; although,
his shriveled hands had drawn my sight;
it seemed like they were withering
and, like the moon, a pallid white.
"A little further down this road,
there lies a curse'd patch of grass
obscured by trees to hide its shame;
for that, I know I am to blame.
The flow of time had left that place,
yet still the living wandered in,
until they saw that wicked plant
whose very growth was deemed a sin."
The frigid notes were ominous,
like most of what the old man said,
and quickly did his coal-coat flee
to leave but silence in his stead.
A trav'ler's prank is what I thought,
but further down the road I saw
an isolated trust of trees
with polished trunks and lively leaves.
Surveying past the tow'ring brown,
I stood in awe at Gaia's gate;
if anything, I had to know
how nature could intimidate.
The grass was like an emerald floor,
a regal rug for royalty,
and aromatic jewels stood proud
amongst the scattered shrubbery.
But then, I sensed a mournful soul
and heard a fright'ning tearful call;
at center grew a single rose,
left weeping within wooden walls.
Its petals were like chimney soot,
but had the most enchanting smell;
its stem and leaves were silver clad,
a gorgeous blossom spawned from hell.
Despite the omens I had heard,
there was a certain beauty here.
If such a flower bred disgust,
I'd shelter it, neglecting fear.
There was no trace of bitter cold,
upon return from curse'd land.
I left that world with fragrant sin
clutched tightly in my mortal hand.
My heart gave forth compassion,
when I stopped that day to pick death's rose.
What do you think of when you see the rain?
I see tears from heaven, because of the pain.
Some see it different , and im sure you do too,
You think its tears of joy, and a start of anew.
What do you think of when you see snow falling?
I think its the time of year ,that friends will be calling.
For christmas is not so very far away,
When you see snow falling ,and its there to stay.
Spring is always so nice to see here,
It brings out the animals , like squirls and deer.
Storms i dont like to see or hear,
The thunder is so loud, it can bust your ear.
When i see the sun , so high in the sky,
It makes me want to jump for joy.
I don't need very much to stay alive,
a little urban rain from time to time.
It's not luxurious, here in the ground,
but I'm content with it, this life of mine.
There's not a lot for me to view from here;
the iron forest always sees to that.
It must be nice to venture past those trees;
but trapped am I, within this concrete crack.
At times, my mistress seems unfair; although,
I'm quite accustomed to this static fate;
her morning eye and moistful firmament
ensure my needs are met, despite my state.
I'm well aware her sight does take a while
to reach my herbal arms from where I stand,
but being patient is a noble trait,
and one that's helped me flourish in this land.
Oh there's no need to worry over me;
I'm quite resilient for a city weed.
I know I can't get up and rule my life;
but as I said, there's not much that I need.
But what of you, my busy human friend?
How goes the life your maker granted you?
Forgive my prying, but I'm most concerned
with all the stress that you've been going through.
You have the freedom to decide your home,
the priv'lege to decide what you will eat,
the sov'reignty to change your day's routine,
and you were gifted with nomadic feet.
I cannot say decisions aggravate,
for they are favors I have never had.
But how can one despise such dowery?
I can't imagine how that'd be so bad.
So listen to this humble seedling's word:
before you think your life is but a curse,
take out the time to reassess your gifts;
your life could surely be a great deal worse.
As I walk out into a deep sea of blue
I start to feel the new morning dew
Wanting to escape to the welcoming stars
I leave behind the pain of all scars
Swept away in this speckled blanket above
I know the stars are full of secrets and love
I ponder and share the thoughts in my mind
The dreams and secrets that I may once find
Soon I know this magical darkness will fall
And all will continue, our natural known call
So now let all found secrets be told
As will our sought out dreams unfold
Silently the moon rose
from, it seemed
The Whispering Trees
This, I dreamed
When all is dark and silent
A Heartstone Moon shall rise
It's soft light illuminating
All you meant
So many things change
Never a Heartstone Moon
New seasons to arrange
Queens, coming soon
Such mysterious light
Filled a castle with wonder and delight
So close, it seemed
Such a beautiful thing
Can only be a dream
Only an Eastern pink sky,
can fade a moon
Long, will it lie
In your heart
A Heartstone Moon
Gathered her stars
Let them play
Above, a castle
That will see the dawn soon
A moon is for dreams
Stars for love
This is why...
Or so it seems
A starlit sky
A Heartstone Moon,
Everyone has to learn...
To be a gull
It will be your turn
In a sky...
Upwards I flew....
To meet you
For, in us all
Is a Jonathan Livingston
In me and in you
It is the spirit that takes us all...
Reaching new heights
We all dream
Some chose to be....
Gulls on the sea
This is me....
As I sit, watching the going down of the sun
The gulls swoop and turn
I savour the thought
Can I become....
One of those...
Who fly until the day is done
I will come as a gull
Fly over the sea
Swoop and turn with glee
What it is to be free
One day it will be
Tearing gusts of highland winds dim the sound of pipes
No one knows and no one sees and no one sets it right,
Heavy hearted sadness carries, other souls who went ahead,
Ghosts of kindred spirits living now or living dead,
Running through the gorse and heather wishing for a horse to ride,
Disregarding wind and weather, Grim, the reaper by my side.
Places I would rather see.... Home's still where I yearn t' be,
I'll never have you there with me... 'tis lost...
Jonji ‘s dance within my mind
and well within the ken o’ men
I just prepped the canvas
Hearing the sweet melody
My emotions take me away
As I listen to the sea
And the Ocean underway
Feeling the rippling pool tide
I voice my harmony
I hear the waves that glide
They sing their song to me
Tasting the salty air
There was a whipping breeze
Snapping without a care
And whistling with great ease
Smelling the sandy wetness
Where water meets the Earth
A seemingly relentless
I hear, I feel, I taste, I smell
This great big Ocean true
It is an endless water well
Where only fish should rule
But, once again, the human rules of life
Destroy what it does not see
I can feel this Ocean’s strife
Can you not hear its plea?
This Ocean needs humanity
But what do we do in return?
We kill it with our insanity
And never want to learn
Consume not what you cannot give
Back to this water deep
I know this Ocean wants to live
Breathing beauty for all to keep
Just one Ocean blue, once pure
This water will become a mirage
We leave Mother Nature with no cure
We pollute her with our garbage
Everyone should seek the path
Of preserving this Ocean we need
She knows a fury full of wrath
Beware Mother Nature and take heed!
Tammy Ann Rose Snyder
Peering through plate glass at a puzzling view,
In the midst of hot coffee’s morning ritual brew.
Staring out with amazement and wonderfully struck,
By our Cherry Tree’s overnight sensation run amuck!
By nature’s own standard, cruel joke she has played,
Million blossoms wide open one February day.
This juvenile sapling knows not what it feels,
Sprouting vivid Pink colors, the show it now steals.
From those all around laying dormant in state,
Expecting nature’s cue to blossom their own petals awake.
And by then poor young cherry will have muted her splash,
Replaced by green leaves summer storms will soon thrash.
But alas all this splendor making warm visual sense,
In the short time required for fresh java to dispense.
Tomorrow I’ll once again observe through plate glass,
The wonders waiting just beyond cold winter’s Rye Grass.
Submitted to Giorgio A. V. Contest themed: Impress me with a small poem II!
1) user name: wedge
2) choice of motif: nature
A beautiful sky, so red
Scattered as far as the eye can see
Words cannot be said
A beautiful sky,
I looked up,
to a beautiful sky, so red
To be a cloud
Yet, I am down here instead
The sun painted its' colour
beautiful and red
throughout the sky
A beautiful sky, so red
Transformed the day,
to something new
The sky darkened
Night was here instead
To steal the light....
of a beautiful sky, so red
I have become a night
Lost in starlight
Onwards I sped,
to find a beautiful sky , so red
The summer passed so fast
I thought you and I would never last
You told me our memories won’t be just a blast
Ever was I the one to doubt our past.
Clouds were soon hiding the sun
The difficult hadn’t even yet begun
I saw your shadow everywhere I went
I guess that’s just how much you meant.
But even in the darkest hour
The moon was there-a source of power
And each look made you feel so near
A dream to chase the presence of my fear…
Living my dream
I had one dream when I was young
To go to another land
In life I wasn’t satisfied
I wanted something grand
Lions, tigers. Kangaroos
And all those wild, wild beasts
Africa, South America
Or Australia at least.
Possessive Mother was my curse
How could I get away?
Every time I mentioned it
She had so much to say
And made me feel so guilty
Really cramped my style
And then one day there came along
Something to make me smile
I’d just turned my nineteenth year
When this great girl came along
She hailed from West Australia
And filled my heart with song
So we got married, had some kids
And here we are in Oz
Been here for half a century
And I came here all because
It was my fate to find this girl
She was my destiny
There’s be a whisper in the skies
That knows how things will be
It takes one’s soul, and leads it on
So growth, it might occur
And I know that west Australia
My heart, it sure does stir.
4 August 2013 @ 1440hrs.
Through the foggy mist of a new day dawning
Appears a huge tree, awaiting the birth of another winter morning.
All that remains is its bare branches stretching toward the sky
And an old abandoned nest, left by its owner who traveled south so it wouldn't die.
The tree appears lonely but somehow full of hope
As if it knows Spring will come which enables it to cope.
A few months have gone by and the faithful tree is still there
But now it's consumed with excitement from its first breath of spring air.
It seems new life has come to the tree within a blink of an eye
It now stands picturesque, full of lavish green foliage set against the baby blue sky.
It waves its branches proudly with the breeze as if to show off its features
Which also seems to serve as a welcome sign to all of God's little creatures.
It appears to be much happier, now that its friends are back once again
Cradling brand new birds' nests and providing shelter during the rain.
The little squirrels also take advantage of their most generous host
It seems they like chasing each other up and down the tree's trunk the most.
The tree is now bursting with activity
With all of God's wee ones living His promise of love and longevity.
All through the summer the tree takes pleasure as it continually strives
To serve as the best meeting place for everything that creeps, leaps or flies.
Full of contentment, I'll bet the tree lets out a happy sigh
Every time it watches a baby bird learn how to fly
Or whenever a caterpillar turns into a pretty butterfly.
I often wonder if the tree truly understands
The major part it plays in God's circle of life simply because it stands.
Fall has now arrived and the tree appears sort of saddened by the sound
Of its first leaf gently falling to the ground.
All of its friends begin packing it up as they gather for a big revival
That's when the tree wishes them a safe and happy journey as they head south for their survival.
The tree bids each one farewell and says loud and clear
"To each God's speed and have no fear
For I'll be waiting right here when you come back next year."
It is now winter and a year in the life of the tree has come full circled once more
Although lonely, it is bigger and stronger than ever before.
But I know not to feel sadness, especially for the tree's sake
For in God's plan, He makes sure even the tree gets a well-deserved break.
Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.
He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.
With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!
Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.
Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.
So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!
God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.
Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?
"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.
Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. www.maria.si
The sky above was filled right up
With big, black, monstrous clouds
The thunder hit the blackened skies
His voice so very loud
Forked all across the morning skies
Fiery fingers streak on out
Then the thunder rumbles loud and strong
And rain is all about
Oh how that rain came teeming down
Just like it’s on a mission
To wash away the whole damned earth
As with her quiet precision
Mother Nature puts the pressure on
To warn us human souls
Of the damage she could do
With the power in her role
The rain, It pours down onto me
But I don’t feel a thing
I’m covered by my wetland gear
And my heart begins to sing
For me, I love these thunder storms
With all their mighty power
Though some on seeing all this drama
Would hide away and cower.
17 August 2013 @ 1708hrs.
Meeting with a Tiger snake
The sky above is sheer perfection
The deepest shade of blue
The big gold sun, it shines on down
And lights on drops of dew
To make them shine like pretty gems
Upon the soft green leaves
Of trees reflected in the lake
Such a poem this morning weaves.
A tiger snake comes swimming by
He swims amidst some gulls
In his special wiggly way
It’s a blessing to my soul
To see these creatures swim together
No danger written there
He’s at peace with all that live
It seems he has no care.
He swims up to the leafy shore
Then hides behind a tree
He knows I’m there yet, doesn’t care
He has no fear of me
But when I try to get up closer
The snake, he flares his head
So I must heed this danger sign
Or soon I could be dead.
Then snake, he moves off through the bush
And goes upon his way
He’ll find some other place to lie
On this lovely summer’s day
The day is coming soon enough
[The autumn is quite near]
When this snake will sleep in peace
Until the spring is here.
4 March 2014 @ 1145hrs
In the early morning hours
The sky is filled with clouds
I love this morning time do I
Away from all the crowds
I take my Bear dog on his lead
As the rain grows wild, and strong
And we two walk, the streets together
My heart is filled with song.
There’s nothing like a morning walk
When that soft, sweet, velvet rain
Caresses one with tender touch
It’s not that I’m insane
I just like being held in nature
I guess that’s who I be
Cause me, I be a natural man
And I love mystery.
I see there just in front of me
Two massive kangaroos
As the gates, I walk on through
And Bear, he sees them too
I grab him lest he should take off
Those Roo’s are kind of tough
As, If I let Bear off the lead
He’d find out soon enough.
The danger gone, we both move on
And take the road Back home
We’ve seen the rain and Kangaroos
We’ve had our little roam
And now it’s time to be at home
And write a song or two
When I’m not walking with my bear
Then this is what I do.
1 June 2013 @ 2006hrs
I love this poem cause I love my morning walks, and this seems to me to be my best poem written on this.
Standing on top
The mountain below
I feel it beckon
A world of snow.
It stretches below me
It pulls at my heart
I can't live without it
Yet we're worlds apart.
Its unending beauty
A place so serene
I want to flow to it
Yet it is a dream.
A dream that I live in
A dream - yet its real
It's part of my make up
It's something I feel.
The calm of the wild
The expanse of just space
The pleasure of feeling
Cold wind in my face.
The knowing I own it
This wide untouched land
And then not to have it
I know I can't stand.
And so I go back to
This place of my dreams
If only in pictures
I am there - so it seems.
nature has its place of worth,
human must endure no dearth,
for we are natures child,
predator oft reviled,
though bloodlust be reversed,
not far away the distant wild,
re: Let the eagle alone
Blow on the winds of sympathy,
Blow on the winds of purity,
Blows on the wind of years gone by
That we could not equate
Blow on the dreams our wisdom holds,
Blow on our hearts emotions,
Blows to us a feeling of the waning hour
That we could not imagine
Blow through the turn to a morning fair,
Blow by the memory of loves departure,
Blows on the worth of simple words
That our thoughts could not imagine