sighing of pines
brisk rustling of oak leaves....
easterly chilling breeze
cold front has caused stir
pollen flies freely sans rain
Star/Steer poem: This is about a traveler navigating the harsh Free State winter relying on the stars for direction and solace.
The Free State veld a canvas stark and white,
Icy Easterly winds cut through me to the bone.
A lonely traveler in the freezing Tweeling night,
I walk a path to a far away home.
The snow clad earth my bed, the sky my roof,
against the cold my spirit stands as proof.
Above the kapok a brilliant fierce guiding star
Ignites the darkness with its age begrimed flame.
It steers me to my home afar, though
frost bitten I whisper his name
It tells a story of resilience and might,
And guides me safely till morning light.
strong easterly breeze stirs spirea
chipmunk runs
Took sail with a north-easterly wind did the Nords
From the glaciated valleys and narrow steep fjords
A sea voyage away by chance three lands found
Norsemen have come to claim their ground
Dragon-headed prows, ships with wooden oars
Centuries before famous lauded explorers
A Vikings roaring soul was the longboat Drakkar
Thru misty waters and unintruded shores afar
The land was calm—no frost in winter
Wild wilderness and little did the grass wither
What’s green is ice and what’s ice is green
Named in contrast so the truth be unseen
So not to make it sound it’s to one’s liking
This is the legacy of the brash hardy breed Viking
The sagas of the Icelanders—Edda
Old Norse óðr poetry of how they discovered America
Angry Conifers
Trees in the avenue
have a weird sense
of humor
Long roots cracking up
finely laid cobble stone
pavement
Slightly bent easterly
give pain in the lower
trunk
The younger trees
bleat about older trees
taking space
Older trees show
distain of needy trees
no dignity
Trees are silent
lack imparting skills
shake leaves
After Rain
The audacious sun finally showed up, and green was
the winter landscape, I also saw the sun set just behind
the carob tree, where the almond tree first blossom,
asleep under a carpet of wildflowers and snoozed till dawn.
Over the easterly range, which is the first defense against
Spanish Marauders and the rain on its plane, the clouds
were dark blue, perhaps, more rain tomorrow?
In fading light, a musical note danced down the phone line,
the first spring flirt. And should it rain tomorrow, I will
not be downhearted, this day will keep me warm for weeks.
Moon, why do you taunt me?
Your haunting glow consumes all I am.
I howl at your feet as you hang majestic
from a diamante sky
I am breathless, shackled to the earth as I gaze at your beauty, your shape centred in a clustered jewel.
Your children sparkle in sibling frame.
My heart is lost, no other will pacify the aching wound that protrudes from my chest
My healing is long and painful. Will sanity return? One day, maybe tomorrow?
You stole my dream, ripped into nocturnal misery as the ghosts pose in silent masks.
Regret stirs, clinging to the winds of a toxic flame.
Beguiling, my eyes burn as sunrise shapes its day,
Tender strands of light peak through the gullies and allies of my being.
Romance still forms within me, a harmonic tune that whistles with the easterly breeze, but this tranquil sea stirs madness. Fire will again light this soul once regret has done its worst and left my shadow.
Moon, never leave, be my secret no more, rejoice not weigh me down and, I will love you forever.
Gray rippled clouds create a tenebrous day
A gentle easterly breeze cools it down
But that sun, glorious sun
Creates a red rose crown
There is a chill upon the air
A dampness makes it cling
As a water sprinkler's sound
Upon my heart and soul rings
Changes in the sky happen
Seems time speeds by
The horizon now full of color
No traffic, but sprinkle noise~sight
The color from the crepe myrtle
Comes alive, brought back by the light
Delight they offer to passersby
Against the fantastic sky of such height
.
Down where wild violets dance
To easterly breezes
And purple Irises erect, stiff, and chilled
See
The dog walker shivers
Wishing for an added layer
To top the corduroy pants still worn
Even though spring green
Is everywhere.
We're halfway between the Earth and the Moon
Riding the sky in a hot air balloon
All through the day and well into the night
Me and my gal on a romantic flight
Floating aloft on an Easterly breeze
A vantage point over deep salty seas
The two of us engulfed in such pleasure
An experience beyond all measure
On this voyage is well worth defending
But sadly now it's time we're descending
So down through the clouds with nary a sound
The tale we can tell when we hit the ground
Written: November 11, 2023
____________________________________________________
Zeal, which requires forbearance as its root,
Akin to a home built upon sleek clay
Yet, as brave as all the walls on the route
And its high spires proudly rise to the sky.
Though skilled creators leave behind a trail,
Aesthetic pyrrhic shapes on every hand.
Shining sculptures in shady nooks prevail
And waterfalls dance in some pastiche stands.
Yet, when a gloomy easterly breeze blows,
The worst wind blows, and dewy showers fall.
Always defeating a hindrance that flows
Then! The ornate design crumbles and crawls.
Earning love spells the skill to endure pain.
Masonry-like friendship called to remain
autumnal leaves trapped
hang, twirl in easterly breeze.....
sticky spider web
jampacked city streets
that jangled and banged
in the raucous jarring day
shifted
from business to boogaloo
squeezing into moonlight
party lights
gin and lime-kissed
gimlet sequined dress
strutted
in studded six-inch heels
riveting flair
provoking jive and jazzy nights
to tame this lion of New York
The bed swallowed the evening
sucked-up in slumbered
sobering snooze
exhaling the drunkard’s stench
while the warmth of whiskey
and you next to me
laid dreamy still
popped up and propped up
restless and ragged
realizing the changing view
through the dirt-stained window
a pool of placid sunrise
igniting
colorless clustered towers
bulwarks and girders
scraping the sky
out of the easterly clouds
a creeping golden palette
arose
touching every crevice
defining each silhouette
your body stirs deliberate and slow
rainbow hued eyes
slenderly slitted catching
the new-found light
opening, tenderly revealing
the landscape of your smile
disclosing
a cozy contentment
waking with hello
as I fall into your dream
and a new day
Crescent moonbeams easterly
Red sun against blue, rises.
Hope today comes leisurely!
Today showers are prizes.
Rain helps beans to develop.
Whip-poor-will's song supreme
Humidity envelops
Those eastern crescent moonbeams
Another try at Ae Freislighe (aye, freshly)
7 syllables per line
lines 1 and 3 rhyme with a 3 syllable ending word
lines 2 and 4 rhyme with a two syllable ending word
The first line's beginning phrase ends the last stanza.
You can go on and on with stanzas, but the last line of the last stanza has to end with the first lines beginning phrase.
Its theme is supposed to be about nature...
Flying on an easterly wind
Over Atlantic waters, ever thinned
A village comes back into view
Eerily draped in a season anew
Hanging now with purple wisteria
Not accusations, not hysteria,
Is old Salem town, lush and green
Beyond, a cemetery lies, a reverent scene
Dark houses, by cherry blossoms framed
Brighten a place once so shamed,
By masking her greatest tragedy
With pink floral beauty, craftily
Quiet streets, an all too familiar pitch
As I wander, her picket fences bewitch,
And up on Gallows Hill, a site so tragic
Finds her peace in springtime magic.
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