The birchbark trees
Stan high on a hill
Each one had a trim
Their tops parts removed
As the time went by
Slowly the limbs grew
They began to sprout
Branches and green leaves
Now its autumn
Their leaves have turned brown
Hanging to the bough
Ready to fall off
Categories:
birchbark, green, growth, tree,
Form: Free verse
In the gray dawn, ghostlike,
A mist rises over the lake
Like a floating whisper.
My shorts and tee shirt
Are damp and clammy
From hanging on the bedpost
Near the open window.
The dock is slippery, and
The yellow kayak slips
Soundlessly into the water.
The paddle barely ripples
The breathless surface.
I am adrift in my imagination.
I am a loon, skimming
The water with its haunting cry.
I am the Indian Hiawatha
In his birchbark canoe.
I am Jacques Marquette,
Exploring the Mississippi River,
Watching for Indians.
I am a lone leaf, drifting.
I am the wind and the air
And the thick gray fog.
I am the water itself,
Calm on the surface but
Teeming with life, as it
Wends its way to the sea.
I am the wind and the rain,
The sun and the clouds.
I am all things in this
Haunting, misty world.
As the fog slowly lifts,
Lightens, and turns golden,
I slip back into myself and
Paddle toward the shore.
Categories:
birchbark, allusion, imagery, imagination, nature,
Form: Free verse
Mushrooms peak b'neath
the moon, and rabbits charm'd by grass
do swoon. Where tulip's petals once
so strong, unite the fall'n, one
last song. Once again the goslings
wander, stray not
far from
nipping mother.
The winds will
howl in sheets of rain,
grandma snug,
wrapped
in her shawl.
Aside the fire, pen
will bend,
this poem
on birchbark,
...peace
the end.
05/26/13
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
birchbark, beautiful,
Form: Rhyme
A pageant of seasonal beauty
Unfurls amongst deciduous trees.
Tawny leaves morph into reds and golds,
Unique to Nature's distinct palette.
Muse to poets, sculptors, and painters,
Nature inspires world masterpieces.
Color plays out like a rhapsody,
Of subtle notes, in a melody.
Lacquered patches of cerise gather,
On the ground, below oaks and maples.
Raining like colorful confetti;
Scarlet and tangerine commingle.
Autumn's a sprite of orange hues,
Riding atop emerald green trees,
Elvishly distributing color.
Aspects of magenta interlace;
Magnifying their intensity.
And groves of birchbark trees stand out like
Zebra, exposed to cold Winter winds.
Intrinsically ostentatious;
Nothing short of Spring can rival the
Glorious spectacle, we call Fall.
Categories:
birchbark, nature,
Form: Acrostic