Spring stirs her eager young
Giving life, renewed to those
Who stand about and doze
She whispers hope, of things begun
Beneath winter's cold repose.
Summer, smiling golden rays
With ample breasts of rain
Feeds, and soothes the pain
Of changing white to green to gray
While dressing her wards again.
Fall, donning multicolored hues
Weeps, her leaves cascading
As her life is brilliantly fading
She takes with her the morning dew
Leaving frost in the trading.
Winter, wearing crystal shards
Bares her nudity to all
Standing gracefully tall
She lays a white robe upon my yard
While singing her wanton call.
And I.....well, I sit passively by
Watching through shielding glass
Four sisters marching past
Thanking God who dwells on high
For His daughters stark contrasts.
Timothy I. Brumley
Testing the water with bare toes
I will recoil
to the misted edge of hoarfrost
peek through eyes of Crocus
at the emptiness my promise
I’ll whisper to the branches shy
to remember seasoned stories
they were told
beckon to the passing birds -
let us celebrate this
My warming fingers, reaching gently,
thaw river ice
as softened earth imparts my scent
to foggy spice
worms wiggle in the drizzling
as dawn tempts the stretching vines
climb empty bowers.
I will touch each aching heart
with sunshine’s gift
releasing all from stifling
nestle with the Cardinals
languish in renewals
submitted to Seasons – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
He saunters in with a slow steady gait
gathering all of nature in his warm embrace.
The whimsical artist splashes colors to sky;
miniature airplanes and exotic shaped kites.
Vocal chords of moon beams strummed by crickets and toads;
a serenade through open windows of our humble abodes.
So light on his feet; ocean's glass dance floor;
leading sailboats to sea and lovers to shore.
His breath on your neck puts you under his spell;
caught up in his love, as romances swell.
His pulse beats hot through sun ray veins,
then he showers us with gifts of cool, fresh rain.
We lounge with him in fields and meadows,
and miss him as Fall nudges him deep in the shadows.
S - P - R - I - N - G
Ah! Harsh cold winter must be tired,
his grip weakening, he breathes his last.
The frowning skies finally crumble fast
revealing downy blue clouds that waltz
The sun blows kisses of shine--- like a rainfall
touching, caressing but melting adagio
the white icy coats among branches...
The blossoms sultry strip to loosen their curves
then upon naked arms of trees curls
the color green trembling with symptoms of spring.
Birds twiddle free to sound like thrums.
Evergreen trees duet as they whistle
to calm tunes of nippy breeze.
All around a choir blushing fountain hues
of brown, red, pink and yellow.
Animals long-hiding from hugs of frost
now stands. They burst with grins and jolts--
like squirrels bouncing up and down.
Butterflies outstretch wings flutter by!
Snow that clogs and plugs finally weeps--
running dry with the heat rising slow on air.
It stirs sweet liquid pearls
to tip-toe on leaves and petal's swells.
Buzzing bees chase fresh floating nectar...
Lured, they dance on merry-go-round
in the warm bosom of smiling sunshine.
Coats and boots all pack and rolled away,
chuckles and giggles tickle the daytime flair
as little children prance to do some plays.
POEM OF THE DAY -- JANUARY 07, 2015
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Contest Name: Seasons
06:49 pm, January 01, 2015
One moist patch, like dewy grass,
surrounded by a field of weeds,
emerges first and breathes at last,
through openings, the air it needs.
Cut off from, and cut off of;
counting on, and counting in;
from down below, to up above -
A smack on tender, crimson skin.
There is a pulse.
One spring bud, like seedling stems,
surrounded by a garden wall,
is standing out from all of them,
despite the fact, they're just as tall.
And though the bud has not yet grown,
the soil and the water see
more than just the seed they've sewn.
They see the flower it will be.
There is a pulse.
One tall stem, like climbing vines,
surrounded by its petals' plumes,
shares its elegant designs,
and stretches as it blooms.
And when the wind begins to call,
the flower spreads it's pollen 'round.
It falls in love, and loves in fall,
and falling love renews the ground.
There is a pulse.
As Dark-Eyed Junco birds head north I know,
You’re not far behind with warmer weather in tow.
With an experienced artist’s colorful brush,
You skillfully paint away winter’s gray slush.
Bringing sweet sunshine and cleansing rain,
Ravaged Earth you renew with rainbows again.
Crocuses yellow and white are brightly blooming,
Oh my goodness, you are absolutely amazing!
Even the rhythmic tap, tap, tap of woodpeckers
Tell me you are here – what mesmeric music to my ears.
Wrens return building nests and spreading their wings,
Flying high in your blue skies as they joyously sing.
Coming alive at the wave of your magical wand,
My elated heart soars and I feel superbly grand.
I love your cool breath so fresh and tender,
And light butterfly kisses that you gently render.
But my dearest Spring, as much as I enjoy being with you,
I have a jealous lover, Summer - so this has to be adieu.
I am the spirit of satin stardust
and the antiquities of golden memories alive
I call to you from the rising warmth of the sun
and greet you in the misty morning light
I am the steady and rolling drum beat
echoing from the jagged heights above
I am the mysterious curves of the raging waters'
and the freedom birds of love
I rise above the white summer clouds
in lilting songs of grace
and roam with the western tail-winds
to take you home again
I am a Spirit of our gracious Lord God Almighty
of love hope and faith
I have come to tell
Dedicated To P.D.
Grieving over postscripts
of a faded summer memory,
an outstretched autumn's arm
reaches through the trees---
Her leaf-fluttered hand expands,
brushing passed dark branch silhouettes...
and tosses new nightlights
into the October harvest sky.
The world that once was slumbering
Beneath the quilt of Winter's snow
Is now set free to gladly see
The rays of golden sunlight
He peeks at first so shyly through
The drifting clouds of leaden grey
And then, behold his beams of gold!
A kiss of gentle sunshine
The trees are budding, flowers bloom
And shades of gentle green abound
The birds of spring so sweetly sing
While kissed by rays of sunlight
How father-like the sun looks down
In glorious warmth and light
To see the things his fire brings --
The miracle of sunshine
From east to west he travells on
In grandly royal golden robes
A pilgrim man, that once began
Benignly sending raylets
As here I watch th'unfolding spring
And bask in beams of heaven's king
I think of monarchs, once divine
Whose wond'rous kingdoms once did shine
This sun hath missed not one poor soul
But fondly with a tender touch
Hath kissed the maids that dwelt in glades
Of distant lands now vanished
Now all, I think, once gently kissed
Have sung the praise of heaven's rays
And all, it seems, that Sun hath wist
Have tracked his run throughout their days
His rhythmic climb and equal fall
While heeding Nature's firmest call
His constant change, yet still the same
When once returned from whence he came
A mystery, a miracle
At times a friend, at times severe
But each new day at Dawn's approach
Reveals the kiss of sunshine
April heralds Summers March
as she leaves behind her warm glow
in blazing trail of red and orange hues
pursued by winds she trips and Falls
chastened to submit to colder paths
stormy clouds-- thunderous showers
shedding garments of leaves and color
exposes herself baring dark squall bruises
behind fragmented damp misty wisp
SUMMER FALLS AS WINTER CALLS
© Kim van Breda—April 2014
(The start of another winter here in Cape Town)
Glorious spring sunshine kiss my limbs as they sprout
With each opening bud, "I'm so alive" I want to shout
April showers cling to me as I drink each delicious drop
Hopefully chosen by blue jays to build their nest atop
Caterpillars and ants tickle me as they crawl to and fro
Nothing sweeter than watching everything around me grow
Come sit under me, take a break from the hot summer sun
Join me as I watch the baby birds leave their nest one by one
Let's marvel at the beautiful butterflies that flutter all around
The music of my friend the humming bird will surely astound
Smell the delightful fragrance of all the many flowers in bloom
Capture the magic nearby of a newly wedded bride and groom
I'm bursting with colors of yellow, orange, red, gold and brown
I proudly smile each time one of my leaves cascade down
Laughing children make my day as they roll in my splendor
You taking my picture makes this memory much more tender
Scurrying squirrels truly fascinate me, as my acorns they hide
Forgotten ones will one day be my saplings, I'll burst with pride
Snow flakes have delightedly dressed me in a suit of white
City folk string me with lights, I boastfully light up the night
Skaters whipping by me, their energy and actions are compelling
I feel so very blessed to have been rooted within this dwelling
Come and join in the festivities and beauty of each and every season
Become a memory on my branches, I can't think of a better reason
*Dedicated to the 50-80 year old trees in Gage Park, Brampton
Un moveable river's
Grinded in stone
Always' a season change
The sun above
Which shed's our light
The moon above
That which shines' by night
Always' a season changes
Wet and cold chills' blow
Rarely in the sky
A star be born
A relic from time
Only to become frost
On the window panes'
Far away eyes' do see
No stars' by night
So many clouds by day...
Golden fingers of liquid sunshine
caress the month of June..
Sunshine-blonde with sapphire eyes,
Cheeks tinged pink by bold sunrise.
She smiles at noon to light the sky,
Nudging clouds with gentle sighs.
She wears a gown of mossy lace
With blooming buttons, neatly spaced.
With ocean heart and river veins,
She seldom cries - she dislikes rain.
Fire-red locks with rose gold eyes
Bright with flecks of fireflies.
She pulls a veil of thunder clouds
Across the sky - a purple shroud.
She wears a robe of flaming beads,
A golden crown of rainbow leaves.
With full moon heart and molten veins,
She weeps at will - she enjoys rain.
Raven mane with silver eyes,
Soft skin pale as milky skies.
She exhales gusts of icy wind;
Her breath leaves frost on everything.
She wears a cloak of northern lights
With sunburst jewels carved from ice.
With clouded heart and frozen veins,
She cannot cry - she freezes rain.
Amber curls with emerald eyes -
A fickle pair that floods and dries.
She melts away the ice and snow
And resurrects the sun's warm glow.
She wears a cape of tangled stems,
Of gauzy vines and rosebud gems.
With honey heart and nectar veins,
She loves to cry - she lives for rain.
She glides on silver skates across the crystal water
her heart a rose frozen in time
cold and uncaring, eyes of no expression
snowflakes fall from blue lips and fly away in frenzied winds
from Indigo skies a porcelain moon
shines down on sugar roofs
as chimney smoke writhes and slithers
like a magical genie escaping into thin air
Out of a late November cloud without warning she steps
clad in ermines and crystal slippers
spreading a blanket of white on field and hill
come evening she reaches into her box of jewels
throwing diamonds on virgin snow
bids the moon cast its glow
she is the wind that chills the bones
gloved hands shape the icicles which hang from eaves
and glitter like a thousand stars in the morning sun....
a lady quiet and graceful, pale of face and cold of heart
jewel of a frozen land, stillness of a silent land
this season known as winter..
Perfect for this weather
Leaves falling from trees
Hair waving in the breeze
Cheering at football games
Bonfires with there dancing flames
Stepping on the frozen, cold, hard ground
The wind is the only sound
Stepping inside after being in the cold
Eating fall’s harvest can never get old
So much rain
It's just hard to explain
My love for fall
WICKED BREATH OF THE WIND
Oh wild North Wind, the wicked breath of Winter’s being
You, whose unseen soul scrapes raggedy branches bare
Are driven, like madness blindly from the darkness fleeing
You, who harvest each grey glimpse from sea and sky--
Frighten even stalwart men to hide away in fiery warmth
While you grimly taunt faint-hearted souls to die
Fragile seeds hidden by fairies stay safe and cold and low
Like compact bodies small within their quiet catacombs
Until seductive Spring sends her sweetest winds to blow
and Love madness calms Winter , their passion rouses the dreaming earth
Voyeur sunbeams with Spring's laughter wake the seeds to tingle
And thus enticing sister Summer's greens as hills give painless birth
Wild winds, brave cousins all, you spin our life
And are the witnesses of both our joy and strife
A Winter’s night observed by: Steven Hudson
Tranquility mounts in the silence of the moment,
Snow glistens from the branches of a full moonlight
Contrasting darkness’s shadowy backdrop,
A gentle calm breeze permeates the air,
Stillness, listening, as this wonderland envelops you
For a season an instant another land transports you
Apparent breath exhaled, a machine fearfully and wonderfully made
In wilderness, frozen and wild that is fearfully and wonderfully made
Green boughs heavy in blankets of snowy white
Black branches barren and void, form lines, into the starry night
Crystals flutter, sparkle and swirl on lumined plains spread out beneath,
On A winter’s night observed, a winter’s night of peace.
She dropped me from her burnished arms
upon a dusty prairie road
and cry I did, and pulling at her skirts
heavy with mud from a morning rain
that fell upon a dying earth..
I begged her to stay for just a while longer
and looked for yellow sunflowers
to help me make her stay, I found I was alone
as the sunflowers wore blackened robes
and shriveled heads that could not speak
and crumbled in my hands..
Turning towards a dying sun, she stole away
with eyes she laid upon the shadowed hills
and fields where flaxen heads had caught
the breeze of golden summer's breath..
With one slow turn she raised her hand
as if to wipe away the liquid rain that
ran on my face - as in a mirror I saw
her reflection, as her tears became mine..
Emerald frocked trees
May's fashion runway..
wearing black greatcoats
stomp across a summer sky...
The sun dances around
Smiling brightly down at earth
Spring is here at last!
The sun’s hands reach down
After a cold winter
Buds and flowers open up
Looking at the sky with gratitude
The trees wave their branches
Saying thank you to the sun
They all agree,
Spring is their favorite season
They danced and they turned and they tumbled
In wind, how it sighed and it grumbled
With force, how it howled in its fury
But still they bore no trace of worry
In cool autumn winds they cavorted
My foot! How they laughed and they sported
They flew through the air just like pheasants
Till set in my excellent presence
“Red Leaf,” quoth I unto the leader
“To fly, there is nothing more neater
But weren’t you the least bit affrighted
As thus from the breeze you alighted?”
“Dear sir,” quoth the leaf as he flitted
“To fear, for a leaf ain’t permitted
We’re taught from a bud in the cradle
That even a crash isn’t fatal.”
“I say,” quoth I unto the yellow
“You seem to be such a neat fellow
I wonder how likes you this sporting
Or if you a damsel are courting?”
Quoth he, “All this sporting is splendid
The days of my courting are ended
My lover has flown to the northward
While I am constrained to fly southward.”
Before one more word could be spoken
The peace of that moment was broken
Away flew those leaves o’er the treeses
Borne by the chill autumn breezes
October 25, 2012.
For the contest, Up in the Autumn Air. Second place.
August drags her dusty skirts
along tired roads of a summer's end..
Dark whispers in the air
on winds of change
that threaten an approaching menace
trees that fear the loss
and skies where blue is torn away
...to be replaced with darkening clouds
as satan arises with cold cruel hands
which heralds an angry curse
set in its winter ways of dark depression..
traipsing in with muddy boots.
Even new snowfall
seems to lose its luster and
houses seem no more to gleam.
In the aftermath
of festive celebrating,
the new month’s first day
is a paltry offering
with nothing great to follow.
The very first day
January comes calling,
some folks feel inspired
to make resolutions, but
others, hung over, just curse.
November, though dull,
at least brings gifts of thanks and
hope of joy to come.
the ugly sister.
Written by Andrea Dietrich/Jan. 1, 2012
in Tanka form, For nette onclaud's
Personification of January Contest
Warm is her embrace
Nectar is her sweet kiss
A cool breeze is her breath,
Bright green was her face
Since birth, taking remiss
Being born of sister's death.
A universal play reforming
Down through the ages
Finds every soul an actor,
In this play she's performing
Act two on the annual stages
That find linear time a factor.
It's a tale of great strife
Of great love and great loss
A tale of passion and woe,
The never ending story of life
That found climax on a cross
But still has a good way to go.
In this play she will perish
But her death shall give way
To life for others down line,
A repeating theme to cherish
Death begets life, shows the way
Of the authors divine design.
She will sacrifice her life
That her sister might live
Who'll do likewise the same,
But for now play the fife
To the performance she gives
For, Summer is her name.
Timothy I. Brumley
The dog days of summer
are barking furiously at an approaching September..
Rusty faced sunflowers count their days
while bobbing less enthusiastically in a dying August wind..
Golden rod waves anxiously to passing motorists
as pruple shadows of the prairie grow long..
Flaxen wheat shivers and rustles in a dying afternoon
of russet grasses and lonesome crickets..
Harvest moon of firey red
trembles nervously on the darkening hills
Close the book on a weary summer
and let the grand lady of the colours make her entrance..
He brushed against her red hair
Then moved on from there
To the girl with the golden curls
While tears flowed upon the ground
Red hair laced between the tears
Soon he tired of the gold
And sought out brown
What a lovely crown
Then boisterously he blew on threw
Now none wears a crown
He is left with nothing to entertain
Only snow and ice remain