weave a path
of ancient memories
leading me towards a shared destiny
with my ancestors
blessing me with visions
and now I see
~inspired by my interest in finding and walking 'labyrinths' around the Midwest...
A garden fence worn by the weather
The entrance port screaming in the breeze
The paint is peeling off many years ago
Inside the port where it grows timothy
between weeds and dead roots
An old and weather worn houses in the garden
The house has its soul, but no people
A long time ago, a beautiful home
Much joy, laughter and love
in this old house and the uncared garden
The roses are deep red and is a beautiful sight
they creep up the unpainted wall
and cover almost the entire house
A beautiful carpet of deep red roses
There is a forgotten garden that lives its own life
A-L Andresen :)
Pink and grey walls rise like castle parapets
Reflecting the sunrise in golden hues
I ride along the canyon to the sound of leather
Creaking softly in the tranquil mountain air
Sweat and horse, with layers of dust
Well worn jeans against a speckled hide
Gently swaying in a unified rhythm
Languidly haze swirling about our feet
Around the bend we startle snow geese
Flocks floating, rising, settling serenely
Angling, landings against the lapping waters
Black tipped wings against wintry white
Sandhill cranes foraging for cutthroat trout
Reflecting blue beside the meandering creek
Majestically standing, patiently waiting
Blue dragon flies dancing within their reach
Off the beaten path we wander
Past yucca swaying in the breeze
O’er grama blue as sky beneath us
Cushioned carpet of pine and peat
Rock squirrels scurry across a Douglas fir
Scolding woodpeckers on a burnt oak tree
The chorus is merged by the hoot of an owl
And the clip clop against rocks as we proceed
Canopies of piñon line the trail
Mixtures of conifer shade the landscape
Grey blue greens with clusters of sienna
Cathedral spiritual within an ageless solitude
Falling riffs like spangled gold,
And sounding drums seem to explode
A surge of tapping, dancing feet,
The piano’s notes, mon coeur entreat.
Cherie amour the air is ''sweet'', so silver laced,
Each face reflects another’s shine
As endeavours fruit is taken in
Like fragrant mellow wine.
© Joe Maverick 03-08-2010
Go back to natural beauty, unwind
Bury and soak into this, I unsigh
Seein' a landscape, large and high
Seasonal flowers, anywhere so wild
Garden hums with life, colors lyin'
Beyond my reaching, my eyes blinded
Ties of scent flowers, let time flies
Fascinated and exotic, much that I cry
Beauty in flowers, awakes my mind
Even briefly, it's significant prize
In one's innermost, all men can find
True nature of being, vigor of mankind
The secret garden, greatest is the mind
There's a sacred place, where true beauty lies.
Open the windows.
Open the doors.
Let the glorious sunshine in.
Remove the dust.
From the floors.
Listen, the birds are singing.
A happy, happy tune.
In April, May and June.
Live life to the full.
It's never dull.
Feel the vibrations.
And the thrill.
Over whelming you.
Stirring your soul.
Lifting you up.
To where you belong.
Begin the day with a song.
Life is wonderful and a joy.
It's there for you to enjoy.
To the country side.
And the sea., I go.
I hope to meet you there, you know..
I feel I want to shout out loud.
To thank, whoever made it so.
Made nature grow.
The sun to glow.
The flowers to bloom.
Come out of your lonely room.
I hope to see you soon.
As hurricane Katrina has came and gone, "the challenging winds can do no wrong".
As hurricane Katrina did left many dead and homeless, "the prompt of prayers can
imprint the mind to be-strong!!
Not all it its path did away with the cries, "the challenging winds attacks only in the nite".
O'Challenging wind why do you communicate so ruthless and powerfull. Do you
seek in your path-of-destruction-the need to evacuate. The contact of the history is
the guiding forces that compliment the need for the rain that came. O'Hurricane, O'Hurr-
icane, please come again. :What you did on New Orleans, will never make-us "friends".
Blossom of baby's breath,soft white
Dusted my shoes in the morning light;
Brushing gorse,crusted yellow
Over the stream with weeping willow;
Into the wood of rush patterned lace
Across a meadow at a slower pace;
Along the cowslip filled track
Under clouds,edged blue-black;
A storm erupted on the scene
Shadowing the pastures a pastel green.
A fine mist, hovers close to the ground,
But it cannot be a fog.
It cannot be, it's a hundred and three,
This is desert, not a bog.
Strain as I may, I still cannot see,
The earth, that lies beneath.
Until a man, comes into view,
He gently sets a wreath.
My camera softly clicks, but once,
At the Solemn view,
I caught his eye, he walked my way,
And whispered " who are you"
I said, I'm taking photographs,
To chronicle this fight,
Just then, the mist began to clear,
My eyes beheld the sight,
For what happened here, the night before,
The worst I had ever seen.
I could not bring myself to shoot,
I just could not believe,
The soldier pointed out a patch,
On a dead mans arm,
The Stars and Stripes,smeared with blood,
Protects me from all harms.
I bowed my head, tears filled my eyes,
At the carnage I did see,
These men and women lying here,
Bravely died for me.
As I raised my head, to thank him,
The soldier with the wreath,
He briskly turned, stood up straight,
I could barely breath,
He raised a stiff hand, to his brim,
Slowly let it fall,
Then suddenly he disappeared,
If not there at all.
I walked among the fallen troops,
Looked down, could not believe,
The soldier that lay below me,
Was the one that set the wreath.
To the Soldiers of Desert Storm
A land that captures your attention;
encapsulate your thoughts of natural beauty and tranquility
A land of divine sunshine.
A place of seashores; a land with momentum water drop falls, exquisite white
sand beaches, winding rivers and streams.
Famous for its dazzling and enchanting creatures.
Picturesque greenery with blue mahoes, palms and coconut trees,
A place of much flora and fauna;
with dandelions, roses and lilies.
From plains to valleys to beautiful species of birds and bees.
A land with people,
people of different pride and creed.
Our rock solid history of hardship and struggle to a future of power and strength.
A land of much energy.
Our thrilling reggae music led by the great Bob Marley
Courtney Walsh, Merlene Ottey and Veronica Campbell legends of sport.
A land with rich food and culture
Oh can we forget our: rice and peas, jerk chicken and pork, boiled bananas,
ackee and saltfish and rundun.
This place that distinguishes us from the rest.
Yes! a land full of flavour our land Jamaica.