Over the pond’s lilies’ leaves,
morning dew settles glistening sleeves —
a covering to compliment the green,
a translucent, hint-of-blue ~ from a quivering
mist hanging, hushing everything, so all the doing
of sunrise dances must in-stasis remain…
~ or transfer by essence to the understanding
intuiting within — to find birds preen, not taking wing;
and trees upswing drying branches, delighted by wet dew.
All breathe the notes of summer’s ending nocturne
composed throughout the woods and, now, day upon day,
repeat that lullaby, trickling the scales as in a piano’s play
to accompany the year’s passing time, turning into autumn
with her blazing, flaming, dazzling, bejewelling
before Mother Nature deeply exhales — weeping dew
over all her gardened Beauty blooms — beginning
their fated wilting, falling, final, felt arias’ murmuring
the refrains life plants within, holding a promise of re-birth
to come past winter’s dominance, all frozen still
with a quiet sleeping peace — prelude to renewal…
to dawn’s Spring dances and the refreshing touch of dew.
Categories:
bejewelling, autumn, fate, imagery, metaphor,
Form: Rhyme
Seasons and Trees
Spring comes along energising the land
Bejewelling trees, pretty grand they stand
Wafting her fragrance to linger on breeze
Creating havens for birds in the trees.
Summer's leafy trees, diverse shades of green
Spectacular visions in country scenes
Elegant butterfly in spiral dance
Cast magic allure o'er summer romance.
Autumn trees magnificent to behold
Displayed in yellow red brown rust and gold
Fruits of Eden created from above
Are gifts grown from Nature’s undying love.
Winter trees denude, pleasure to the eye
Naked silhouettes against starry sky
Shivering in wind, glistening with snow
Poised statues adorned in a frosty glow.
*+*+*
2nd April 2023
Categories:
bejewelling, appreciation, seasons, tree,
Form: Rhyme
Pull back the veil of the spider-silk sky
And let both our bodies belong to the night.
Like moonlight on marble, like shadows on skin,
Your touch can bring beauty, bring changes within.
Paper thin, sheer, like all colour has run;
I feel I'm transparent when held to the Sun.
So brush me with vibrancy, fill in the gaps,
Create with kaleidoscopes, mirrors and maps.
Set free your fingers to trail over ice,
Be gentle, bejewelling, a crystalline white.
Trace lines of literature like each word is new,
Lure me in lullabies of emerald and blue.
Mould me and melt me as if I were gold,
Be the richest of men, take my hand to hold.
Move as one body til the stars cease to shine,
And put back the veil cross the spider-silk sky.
Categories:
bejewelling, love, passion, romance, me,
Form: Rhyme