Best Stumps Poems

In forest's night, the trees bend low
beneath a slice of half moon’s glow;
          silent shadows waver...

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I Love Horses: A--Z

A is for... Appaloosa. They have 
blankets on their rumps. 
B is for...Belgian. They work 
hard and can pull up stumps. 

C...

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This is the story of mad Molly Shaw
She might be mad now but she wasn’t before
she came home to find her man dead on the...

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"Notes on a Wrist" 

the pulse felt
under nibs
of fingertips
translates a life

the semicolan
stretches like 
the devil
hungers 

it can 
wait a long time
eternally feeding you
drip by drip

ever...

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FIRST MOVEMENT (Minor Key)

Times such as these test body soul and mind
So should our thoughts be pain and dark confined
Or loosed to concentrate on brighter...

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Careless whispers from sordid lips
Echo through the wooded landscape of hearts.
Destructive wants and needless needs,
Carried on the remnants of rust and bone,
Discarded amongst the fallen...

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Woods enthuse me,
Bring me to a dancing state.
Lilt me, lift me, bring me back to my soul mother.
Bring me home, in pure joy and excitement.

I...

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When I was a child
Everything was magical
Full of mystery and the unknown
I read hundreds of books
The library my haven
My home
Hours upon hours
Night and day
I read...

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Vapors of emerald and jade ribbon the hauntingly beautiful sky,
and I sat in wonder, transfixed, mesmerized
For me, it moved, more like danced
to a melody that...

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Where the forest is still virgin and the lyrebirds often call,
the bronze-wing comes to drink, and the ferns are growing tall, 
there are deer prints...

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Blooms and butterflies are a poet's delight, 
For his sore eyes so soothing a sight, 
Like mellifluous music melting his restless mind. 

The brilliant blend...

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Few are charmed with albatross wings
to glide high above the toothy surf
to soothe the cliffs that yearn to sing 
in granite tones of golden destiny....

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Remembering days of young- long ago 
Adventurous me, I yearned for playtime 
Playing with my siblings on mounds of snow 
To the peaks of high...

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Frisky, gray squirrels scramble
Beneath a massive, old oak tree
Gathering the best acorns they see
Their fluffy tailed, lively damsels

Opossum wobble on short legs
From their laurel sheltered...

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Out of all the questions I have been asked in life
None of them stump me more like this:

Why do I write?

It does not stump me...

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