Best Lowing Poems

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

Burnt up – crisp
     ...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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Something is happening there now
I know it, I can hear the lane full
Of children's voices, the lowing cow
Tramples on the peanut hull,

But not that, not...

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A mackerel sky fillets the village
then hides it in a breezeless blear.
Heads poke out of net drapes
sniff and fish behind trawling curtains.
Shopkeepers brace for
wet dog...

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