Bits of crinkled purple
somersault
doubling the downfall
of faster falling rain
The hummingbird shows me
her green side
363.
My Fear of Hell
I fear physical death because I may just go…
To the scorching yard of God's enemies
Where I will be slave to diabolic royalties
Like an acolyte of Warcraft Undead who summon atrocities!
To the spiritual crematorium of demons who rape
Where I will be prisoner to a jail of no escape
Like Prometheus of Greek Myth as mournful as a crape!
-03/19/2015
(Dumarao)
*My Fear of Death Collection
The bark peels back like old skin—
Mine, yours, the cinnamon scrolls
Of what we shed to live. August
Bleaches the world to bone, the bark’s faint spice
Rising in the noon glare,
Heat tasting of salt and sand. And still this Crape crowns
Itself with Myrtle fire. Still—
I cannot explain what breaks in me. Still I press my cheek
Against its flaking flesh, feel
The pulse beneath—magenta,
White, pink, the deep red
Of what I've never
Bled for anyone.
Each blossom a small fist
Opening with the muted pop
Of summer rain on dry earth. Each petal, tissue-thin
As the lies I've told myself
About enduring. The Eastern Shore sun
Has made this tree what survival
Looks like: stubborn—
Beautiful, built for the burning
Seasons that strip us
To what we are. Winter comes,
And I am learning
How to be naked—
These mottled limbs
My teachers, conductors' hands
Mid-gesture, never finished
With their fierce music
Of staying alive. Of reaching
Up through the killing
Cold, brittle air ringing
With the clink of frozen twigs toward something
Green promises I cannot fathom—yet still I know
Lives in the light returning.
Hi-Choo
Early spring in Corinth and I’m bathing in a pollen shower as fuzzy green seedlings are whisked here and there in the blustery March breeze, I sneeze!!
Remnants of last night’s thunderstorm cruse across the pale blue canvas of the afternoon sky as pine cones fluttering in the breeze make me sneeze, I sneeze, I I I I sneeze!!
Even the old crape Myrtle, pronounced deceased years ago, is budding and basking in the evening glow, her babies preparing to become leaves, and I sneeze sneeze sneeze , I sneeze, I sneeze
As you can see
Pollen damn near
Got the best of me
But let me catch
my breath
and finish my soliloquy
Old Magnolia, washed in Nature’s seasonal offering, regain their forest green state, after a brief bloom, branches swaying with ease and I sneeze sneeze sneeze I sneeze I I sneeze I sneeze
Wew!! Hi Choo!!
This uncompromising Sunday
has agreed to let us enjoy
what is left of a boring day
as we ardently seek the brief presence
of a radiant sunset resembling red clay,
attesting the inevitable evidence.
The purple lilacs and pink tulips gently sway,
nobody listens to the crickets' soothing sounds;
early at sunrise they were inundated by big waves
and torrents of unmerciful rain pelting on the bay.
Every Bayberry and Crape Myrtle shrub has fragrant flowers,
they attract Sandpipers, Snowy Plovers and Monarch Butterflies;
they all feast on them, then they take off with incredible swiftness:
while the tranquil and brilliant sea resounds with various shrills.
I spot from far the noisy seagulls landing on the Church's steeple,
scattering the Gray Catbirds huddled on long cable wires that were
listening to the choir of faithful marching out with glowing smiles,
cherishing their last moment of glory under brilliant September's skies.
This uncompromising Sunday
has agreed to let us enjoy
what is left of a boring day
as we ardently seek the brief presence
of a radiant sunset resembling red clay,
attesting the inevitable evidence.
The purple lilacs and pink tulips gently sway,
nobody listens to the crickets' soothing sounds;
early at sunrise they were inundated by big waves
and torrents of unmerciful rain pelting on the bay.
Every Bayberry and Crape Myrtle shrub has fragrant flowers,
they attract Sandpipers, Snowy Plovers and Monarch Butterflies;
they all feast on them, then they take off with incredible swiftness:
while the tranquil and brilliant sea resounds with various shrills.
I spot from far the noisy seagulls landing on the Church's steeple,
scattering the Gray Catbirds huddled on long cable wires that were
listening to the choir of faithful marching out with glowing smiles,
cherishing their last moment of glory under brilliant September's skies.
I sit under my crape myrtle tree
in full bloom of white
feeling the cool breeze from the rain
a couple of miles away
I've no particular thoughts about being a miner of
so I'll let my thoughts wander
and watch the clouds rush by
heading Northwest to an unknown destination
while Bluejays play tag in the limbs
and Igrets dig for food in the soil of my yard
seeming not to care that I'm here
I'll spend a few hours in this shade
relax and listen to thoughts that drift away
with the bird songs soaking in Nature,
finding peace, with no thoughts of tomorrow
nor seeking memories to dwell on
only the serenity that comes from a pristine
calmness of the mind
By the time it's officially Summer,
Without a doubt, they will be arresting me.
Presently, they are budding under the crape myrtle, which also will be stunning by summer.
Most assuredly, all of our plantings will be most pleasing to our eyes, and will cast their spell on me.
They will dare me to ignore them in the slightest.
Indeed, I will have been captured by their beauty.
My neighbor might even take a picture of them
As they stand tall between the cactus and roses.
I tell you; those beauties will render me dizzy, dazed
and dazzled, standing in attention like a patriotic soldier.
I must remind myself to thin out the cactus plant.
I wouldn't have to cut them if they were mature enough.
In time my cactus will burst force with yellow blossoms.
God gives my flowers plenty of water, and I weed them well.
No prettier flowers match the ones
Lynn nurtures with immense care;
all her fantasies seem to adhere...
as if they were evocative lyrics!
Crape myrtle trees are blooming early,
they beautify the lively garden below;
blossoms make a soft and cozy pillow
to lay down gently and dream sweetly!
No windfall scatters them around with blows,
their stems can withstand upcoming storms;
their petals dazzle and make tearful Flora smile...
whenever she's anxiously waits to be a bride!
All the vivid colors of this suburban garden
invite everybody to stare at them gleefully,
Giancarlo offers a bouquet to a lonely lady;
her thankfulness pleases the kind gentleman!
If only spring could last all yearlong, southbound
Marlins, Canaries and Puffs would come around often;
their astonishing, cheery melodies will surely astound:
stop by and admire the loveliness of Lynn's garden!
Good morning, Spring.
I saw you yesterday for the first time in 2024.
I did not know how long you had been standing
there. My wife saw you sometime before I did
but failed to inform me.
Honestly, Spring, although it is unseasonably
warm where we live, I did not expect to see
you in February.
Anyway, you are always beautiful and so full
of life, and yesterday was no exception. You
were pretty and pink in the peach tree, and
greenish with a tiny bit of white in the plum
trees, but the pear and pecan trees as well
as the crape myrtle trees were not ready for
your touch of Spring.
Oh, Spring, I hope you don't get hit this year
with a late spring freeze. That could change
everything.
It was great seeing you, my friend. I look forward
to many more of your great displays and beautiful
scenery. Until then, my dear Spring friend.
022824PS.
I knew her from childhood,
But when manhood came, we
Gradually grew far apart.
More correctly, I left her.
But she was always there,
And there for me, whether
Or not I realized it.
Time was our mutual friends,
And it was time that brought us
Back together after many years.
I often grieve to think of the
Many years I ignored her when I was
Enamored with my frantic and busy life.
Stillness first found me some 25 years
Later and 2000 miles removed from
Where we first met when I was a child.
I knew that it was her when I felt her
Flowing through the valley in the form
Of those California Delta breezes. And she
Was never more inviting and inspiring than
When I more recently experienced her in the
Changing trees of Fall, Crape Mertles of Summer,
and in the Southern open and bare fields of Winter.
021924PS
In the spring of '23, at first, all looked pretty and free.
The first year in our new home, we anticipated a beautiful canopy
as the trees began to bear buds and beautiful blossoms. But then
came a late freeze and changed the flow of green. The results were
huge, and the flowers and trees probably were a bit confused.
No different from you or myself, they retreated to return later.
Indeed, they did return but came with lots of limbs and leaves.
So, this summer, the peaches and plums were nonexistent.
All of mankind has learned to never take it personally,
because whether it's bad weather or a dreaded disease,
life and Mother Nature will often refuse to please.
Our Crape Myrtles were not nearly as lovely as last year.
Yet, they are doing their best with never a tear.
And the peach and plum trees have not a single fruit.
The young pecan tree died but fortunately, not from the root.
Two out of three mulberry bushes somehow managed and made it.
Although young, they were fruitful and in them, there was 'no quit'.
They endured both the challenges and the climate change; and they
wisely built defenses, making adjustments and rearrangements.
090523PS
Many years ago, before realizing the power and value of pruning,
I watched in utter dismay as my neighbor cut back the limbs on
his front yard trees. I thought to myself, "Surely, they will die".
Fast forward a few decades. My bride pruned the rose bushes, and
I cut back the Crape Myrtles. I started in January, and we are
almost done with the pruning.
As frequently is the case, natural pruning has left me with a question.
Who shall prune and cut back on me in 2023? That is the question. Shall
I not yield to the saw and cutters as did the rose bushes and trees?
Nature's beauties never once resisted, nor did they insist that I cease
because I was taking something away or hurting them. I rather think that
they longed for my loving attention and care, as they and I anticipated
the beauty of new life bursting through their veins this coming Spring.
May The Lord extend his Grace to us as we are pruned by Him.
020923PS
Drive at any season gives me immense fun,
I cannot afford many cars; yet, I've good one;
Drive during Fall, indeed, is very enchanting,
Especially, if through village roads, it's joy-granting...
From black-mud surface, dust, like fog arises,
Road seem unclear; yet, adventure provides surprises;
Muddy hillocks both the sides stand in welcome poses,
Bend tree-branches with twigs show-off their stiff noses;
Leaves, in multi-colors, are spread like fancy-carpets,
Grasses, peeping between leaves, seem to scatter in tit-bits;
Silk-cottons, bottle-brushes and fountain-trees exhibit red,
The Indian laburnum and golden bells seem gold-yellow-spread;
Magnolia, crape myrtle and crab-apples shine in pink,
While Rhododendrons and Wisteria stand dipped in blue-ink...
My car Air Conditioner is jobless as cool breeze all round blow,
End of colorful meadows, I could see clear streams flow;
With variety signatures of sun, the sky is magnificent,
I wish my drive could go on for years and eras without end...!
09 September 2022
It is not easy to happen upon them,
Pure nymphs in their natural beauty.
It happened to me only once when
I was resting beneath a red sunset maple,
As the summer hear began to soar.
A stone throw away was a lively stream
Around which grew in flower
A clump of Crape Myrtle Dwarves.
The breeze blew softly carrying
Some mellifluous melody,
Whilst nubile gorgeous maidens,
Laughing merrily frolicked
An amorous intense folk dance.
Then some loud noise disturbed the peace.
And all disappeared out of sight.
Was it a dream?
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