Best Lowing Poems

The farm
     and the porch light hums 
the sound of another 
orange dawn.

Burnt up – crisp
      aching new reaches 
of the imagination turn 
from corn
      to wheat
to the pungent shade
of dried...

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As dark canvas unfurls bit by bit
Randomly gulping down acrylic paints of dusk
To satisfy his own thirst, not for long, to sprawl
Into a magical cosmos - flapping his dark wings atop
Swirling soft fair clouds that rock and roll
Through gray-black, myriad dazzling stars so 
Idyllic, and...

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Goth mood’s not right, not bright enough.
Fountain of sea, rapt in darkness.
Crepuscular ink blocks sunlight.
The cursive waves doth strain the wrist.

Fa-la-la rhymes, leaping and lowing.
Counting the black sheep - times not slowing.

Fountain of sea, deep in darkness.
Coarse keys, ivory black, musing.
The cursive waves doth strain...

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Azure-accentuated ambiance awaits aspiring artists
Baby’s birth brings blessings, blowing boredom-blues
Cool calmness charms circumspect chefs to create cuisine cravings 
Daybreak dos and don’ts discipline drivers from direction-dazzles
Enlightenment-exercise empowers engineers in their endeavors...

Fiery fluorescent fearlessness fuels firefighters’ faith-fortitude’s fervor
Glowing grace of God gears guardians for guiding governance
Hope...

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I question Adam’s hymn, O’ Holy Night,
while I retreat upstairs on Christmas Eve
comparing his to mine to fill the night:

His was a quill that spilled of quelling leaves,
of grace contrived to save the petty thieves
once hung from twigs composed of disbelief
condemned to hell for causing...

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Manger Shadow

A shadow lurks behind the manger bed
 Swaddled by indifference,
  Creeping behind
 Lowing cows 
And 
Bleating sheep,
Power without power raising up a hoary head
 While in vanity dim shades attempt to weave
  A gloomy thread into the scent
   	 Of...

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Oh, pretty little butterfly, flitting all around.
You can flash dance colorfully even with no sound. 
Hummingbird, I see you too. You flap your wings so fast.
You super duper flapper, you are having such a blast!

Bumble bee, big bumble bee, your buzzing song is rare.
Few insects...

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I squint my eyes from the glaring sun
As I drive cattle across the open range.
I am the youngest hand, so I ride drag
Covered by the dust stirred into the wind.

This is the life I have chosen
To hear the steady creaking of my saddle
The songs of...

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There was once a king who decided that for him - beauty was silence. 

 He issued a decree that all sound was banished henceforth and that his land would forever more be as silent as snow.  To enforce this impossible law he sent...

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My Goddess

I
              Met         A
                    ...

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The River

The river sings its sweet lament
in ancient voice softly lowing,
vibrant melodies subtly meant
to plumb the depths of our knowing.

Around each bend it curves, flowing
onward toward its fated reunion
with unkempt sea, wild and blowing;
embracing briney communion.

Its serpentine course scars the land
in undulant brown profusion;
shimmering gold...

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Sleeping In Nana’s

day concludes in glory
beyond the forest wall
suspended on a whippoorwill’s song

a muffled out board glides the narrows
past Hick’s farm
humming its sated fisher home

somewhere a screen door slams
crack, into the gather of night 
sharp contrast to settled sounds of dusk

while cow bells soft metallic...

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BEAUTIFUL FALL

Blowing winds usher in colorful fall's parade
Elusive as a butterfly on the wing in an
Atmosphere that changes everything.
Uniting leaves to depart from their boughs,
Trees dressed in scarlet, gold, orange and brown
Inflight, twirl and dance their way toward ground
Filling eyes with such breathless imagery
Until the...

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Beneath the passage of the sun
I surrender thoughts to a mindless haze
and turn my eyes around to gaze
upon the wave of rolling hills,
where tender grass is ever growing-- 

Where cattle graze, with sounds of lowing 
among the fragrant flowers, wild
I will smile and play, just...

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The wind whispered loudly,
Screaming through the trees

Every leaf emerald and alive,
The height of fertile spring

All the cattle lowing,
As the bright fire stronger burns

Maidens pale and glistening,
Thunder-round and turn

Wolfish warriors circle,
Blood thirsty for the chase

The willows moan in longing,
To rest before  blistering days

The stones stay...

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