There is a wind , which sketched,
Without my knowledge, the message;
Autumn had lying words,
On my page.
It was by way of red leaves,
The bird of passage,
Twirling in space,
I followed it of my glance
And its woven loops,
On the canvas of the sky.
I just transcribed,
What the wings,
Supported on the wind,
Said to me.
(translated from french )
C'est un vent qui traçait,
A mon insu, le message ;
L'automne avait couché les mots,
Sur ma page.
C'étaient en guise de feuilles rousses,
L'oiseau de passage,
Virevoltant dans l'espace,
Je l'ai suivi de mon regard,
Et de ses boucles tissées,
Sur la toile du ciel .
J'ai seulement retranscrit,
Ce que les ailes,
Appuyées sur le vent,
While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
An orange leaf tinged yellow-gold am I -
twirled happily up in the autumn air
with comrade leaves. I dance beneath blue sky.
An orange leaf tinged yellow-gold am I.
Above - a sleek black white-tailed bird glides by!
Below me, all the earth is bright and fair.
An orange leaf tinged yellow-gold am I -
twirled happily up in the autumn air.
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
Peace of nature shows
how relaxing life can be
and can show you truth
Very early Fall morning…crisp and clear.
Sitting on the patio, sipping hot coffee.
Only my path to and from the bird feeders,
Rain gutters hung on the stockade fence,
Has disturbed the beautiful, glistening dew
Blanketing a lush, green Bermuda lawn
Awaiting the season’s final mow and a Winter sleep.
Early morning sunsmile creates a mist, a little fog,
That artists have great difficulty recreating.
And the sprinklers are making music too….
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH
As I filled those bird feeders,
Only the patient cooing of white wing dove
Waiting in the surrounding trees
Could barely be heard above the sprinkler.
CH CH CH CH CH CH CH CH
Feeders filled, I walked away.
The air erupted with bird song.
Our giant privets were alive with hungry sparrows,
Each announcing breakfast.
All the locals seemed to understand.
The robins and larks, the finches and cardinals chimed in;
But only the jays’ sharp calls could be heard above the din.
What a ruckus…but so beautiful a song,
It is a ‘wall of sound’ to be envied by rockers.
Orchestrated by Mother Nature….Mrs. God.
The sprinkler's barely heard....
ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch
Squirrels wait out of sight.
One may bark now and then, but
They’ve learned that patience pays.
It’s not just time to feed those damn birds;
It’s time to feed the greedy squirrels too;
And chow time is well worth the wait:
Sunflower seeds. Peanuts. Suet. Dried fruit.
You can almost hear them as they gobble,
“Mmmmmm. Man, this is the good stuff, Bro’.
I mean the good stuff. What a life.
I’ll never leave…not even for a girl squirrel.”
It’s as if they think they’ll never eat again;
As if we hadn’t been feeding them
Every day of their lives…and their parents.
If we could tell them apart.
They would have names.
All this and good coffee too.
What a beautiful Fall morning.
Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul
at this season.
Equatorial island exploring its amazed
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next
Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma
Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.
At event of recreation, campfire were
Nobody around us, private moments
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again
Hand in hand danced with the soothing
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her
Expecting the light around us to be dim.
The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand
She looked too pretty in her gold lame
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!
Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.
Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout
life in this lovely weather.
Will be your shadow, because your pain
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry
me, my Kindred Soul?
Feathered friends flee frost
as first flurries flip and flop.
Floating, flying flock
of fair geese transform fading
fall days in fixed formation.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, 11/13/13
for Francine Roberts' Tanka Me Fall or Winter Contest
You whisper in my ear
midmorning bird songs
with that scent of mountain air
and foliage extracting its green emblem.
Switching to fields of neon;
your breath mimics the sunset sky
the feeling of kissing your newborns forehead,
so gentle and soft your entrance.
You ease your way into a majestic overlook
of pomegranate leaves,
and weak, crisp, dead skinned grass.
My delicate irises wince at
overpowering sun rays
but the heart of your existence
I open my eyes for.
I can’t miss this.
My body balanced
by your impeccable temperature,
you look so beautiful tonight,
in my window frame,
your fire grows in the pale moonlight.
You whisper in my ear
midnight cricket hymns
so seducing in your presence
that I can’t get enough of this.
The Apple PASTURE
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.
As a shape shifter I change into a bird
and fly high above the sunlight forest.
The trees now losing their leaves show
me the patches in between what was once hidden.
Glimpses of lake and stream glittering and gleaming
and the multitude of dazzling Autumn colours,
give a sense of peace and memories of long gone Summer.
contest: One Autumn Day sponsor PD
Every autumn in the Chaos Mountains
the wind blows through the tall grass
& the rain stalls, fitful in its sublimity.
It is not a season for speaking. Only for listening.
Out there, somewhere beyond the horizon
a silence that is not silence, calls,
& men enter the duck blind, and wait,
huddled with their cartridges & ambiguities,
disguised to themselves as hunters,
re-inventing themselves with rifle eyes
fixed on some vanishing point beyond the language
of rivers & trees, turned away from
the here & now - a tempting non-existence
accompanied by hope, which may be nothing more
than the promise of a big dinner with
lots of stuffing and gravy and no questions.
THE CHANGING OF THE SEASONS
When summer ends, autumn begins.
The leaves fall from the trees.
Such a beautiful sight and done so spiritually.
Magical is the change of the seasons into the New Year.
I saw a red bird today and enjoyed her chirping.
Gathering food, she was on my window ledge.
Pillared to be quite successful, her tiny wings went a flight.
The red beak is all that was seen as she entered the sky.
Absolutely beautiful is when the leaves fall from the trees.
Summer has ended with autumn’s inception.
I can feel the breeze.
PENNED ON AUGUST 30, 2014!
Life is a creative
A dance with
A non-sensical Mystery
Extending through and beyond logic.
Nothing holds it at both sides
Yet here it is. (There it is)
Birds Are Singing
I lay here in bed not able to sleep with the birds outside my window singing their songs
The autumn night is still with a full moon and a cool breeze
I lay here watching the shedding leaves on the tree shimmer from the moonlight reflection and the cool gentle breeze blowing like a whisper of puff blown breath
The birds are singing, letting each other know that they are safe and enjoying the cool silence of the night air
I lay here in bed not able to sleep listening to the birds singing their love songs that will put me to sleep
by eve roper 10/7/2014
Sweep, old lady, sweep away
of the day
breath as the sun sighs and
settles into the
consider the satellites as they
gather the children on the
wide fields you have
Sleep, old lady, come Monday
My mother use to tell me a story about living in the woods.
She said during autumn the leaves fell to the grounds and they burn very good.
Her siblings and she would go hunting in the month of October.
The family would store the deer and rabbit meat not to go to the store.
Nature was harsh when it was cold.
When the snow or the freezing rain comes, the birds do not soar in the sky.
The ether would freeze the fouls.
The upper arctic is rigid air.
The birds fly south.
Nature in the winter can bring struggle and strife.
The beauty of the outside can affect life.
Save your money and do not fly high.
You are gambling your stability of sound body and mind.
Bitter Mother Nature is not to be denied.
The beauty of nature and winter signals an end of a productive year.
Plants cessation is seen.
Farmers have harvest crop.
Animals migrate to warmer climates.
All know Mother Nature in her mood swings.
Therefore, pay attention to your surroundings.
Respect Mother Nature and she will respect you.
However, the weather is onset.
The quiet weather sneaks upon us.
Therefore, things can become quite turbulent defining a Bitter Mother Nature’s region.
Penned on May 20, 2014 12:30 A.M. EST!
My, you’re brimming with eggs, oh singing robin redbreast,
Fly to the mulberry branch with your saffron yarn to build your nest.
And hello, mandarin butterfly, look how anxiously you flit,
Here and there until at last upon the elm branch you sit.
Look on the hickory branch, you can observe a predator stalk,
The neighborhood hawk will hoist his prey to the tower loft.
A squirrel launches from an overhead limb into midair,
It rattles loose an avalanche of snow on my scalp and in my hair.
In its final soar
Finds the limb it learned to fly
Lands, to fly no more
There was once a fellow named Joe
Who saved money for an expensive bow
The bow was awesome
Used to kill an opossum
Which won him a trophy in a show
Autumn oak sheds its leaves to live,
Birds that thrive in leaves begin to grieve.
None can compare.
To the nude silver branches and barren expanses,
That the cool of winter doth bring.
Unless you equate the way the birds sing,
In the start of the fresh, blooming spring.
Or perhaps the warm air,
Filled with crickets’ prayer,
That’s found only in the summer’s afternoon glare.
But then there is the time of the harvest,
With leaves like the paint on the palette of an artist.
Such tender, splendor indeed, in each season is found,
For in Nature, beauty truly doth rise and abound.
Shawnee Doling-Tye 10/6/13
Ashes prepare for the fire’s glow
Umbrellas twirl under the rain
The leaves voice a radiant symphony
Uttering a beautiful season
Many feathers thread their way south
Nature’s clock spinning a bridge to winter
an autumn songbird gives voice to the luxurious late day
beautiful its song caresses the ear
all natural world breathing as one with your heart
as the sun itself kisses you tenderly
as if saying farewell to you and the day
and as the sun slips to the horizon
you close your eyes and can feel heart take to wing
with the autumn songbird playful in the crisp air
feel your soul breath and soar among the clouds
floating in the warm breeze of
that eternal summer dream where
everyone is forever young and in love
forever happy and filled with wonder
the autumn songbird fills me with her song
fills me with the strength of possible beauty that the new day promises
fills me with the peace found at the heart of kindness
so will you join me
rejoicing her song
will you take a moment to breath in
the wonder of late autumn summery day
My racing mind of confused thoughts
And things that I could not fix,
Pushed me out of doors today.
A little walk under bright blues skies
May keep frustrated tears at bay.
The wooded trail, trees arched above,
The flutter of quietly falling leaves.
A fiery carpet beneath my feet, the leaf-covered path winds.
The rustle and crunch of leaves
Drowns out the worries in my troubled mind.
The chilly fall breeze, the fragrance of dying leaves,
Will help to clear my head.
So I walk along, kicking up the colorful patchwork
And simply daydream instead.
A scurry of tiny creatures sneaking beneath the leaves,
A comical hopping bird searching for hidden seeds, a
Flutter as the hungry bird takes wing.
A low releasing sigh...
Oh the wonderful calm a beautiful autumn day can bring.
Here have I not a cage,
But a caritas thermonest,
There in my balcony it stands;
So when garden withers it leaves,
And fields have no mustard of grain,
Remember my balcony is your fortress
And fly boldly to your grains and warmness
EXISTENCE is compatible with chaos.
The chaos’ time is never to be lost
whilst being an unconscious step towards more steps.
It fits extremely with tiredness,
while a wild fantasy drives body and spirit
across the unknown brighten jungles,
a coercion without handgrip.
Stuck in a feeling, bring up this rearing.
Follow suit, or get the boot.
Caught between places, there are too many faces.
Don't know how to ask, my needs are in a flask.
Break the glass, and its all just wasted.
Keep it shelved, and forever not tasted.
Sickening my self to sleep, if that ever comes,
I will try to keep.
Gorging in this cunning proposal of weary sky,
I look to the birds, and wish to fly.
Still counting sheep alone, the dark one in the herd won't ever see his home.
"Enough of this madness!" I tell myself, rambling my thoughts, scrambling to fight a battle not fought.
I look to the shelf, the books not placed, it could all fall down and be a disgrace.
Going back and forth pacing my eyes, I am a man of my word, yet always in disguise.
I seldom ask for help, sleep is for the weak, I care too much and that is what I speak.
In the fading light’s vast expanse
Autumn evening’s graceful dance
Flock of starlings countless, harmonised
One way, now another, synchronised
Black-out the sky, then film-thin
Venetian blinds opening up, closing in
Pulsing wave of birds rolling over the sunset with ease
As one dynamic creature turning in the breeze
Each bird an orchestrated part
Titan making love to the ocean’s heart
As if its whole life were what it gave
Thrashing in wave after sensuous wave
Its eyes open and close
In a giant climax and its throes.
Seeing these marvellous bird displays is one of the delights of country living.
We saw this performance every autumn evening on the Irish coast.
I do not know?
She frolics on an autumn day
running wild through a blood red glen
the leaves on her train leap up and dance
swirling around her as she sings
to a bird in her hand:
she sings of the butterfly tree.
The bird leaps up
he spreads his wings—
he sours through the fall foliage,
up , up,
to the blue sky beyond
where he warbles upon breeze
to the crimson sun:
he warbles of the butterfly tree.
The sun turns away
to shine among the dark
he courts the quiet shade
chasing away the silver moon
who hides beneath a laughing brook
he flirts among the dappled light
as the world begins to whisper
to the silver shadow ‘neath the brook:
it whispers of the butterfly tree
A forest stands
at the far end
of the valley
The leaves are
blown by an autumn breeze
let the wind do its work
we walk down
and see the brillant
colors in the distance
but for the present
we will just enjoy
what we can
there is so little time
We must make haste!
Somewhere in the
a bird is winging
to it's nest
We are strangers in
and must close
all too soon
Somewhere in the distance
the small bird is
It's out of sight
but we have seen
We're not birds
but our spirits can