Drizzle drip the rain slips
Down from the eaves
To water a seed
Pitter patter
Meandering shower
Sullen clouds
Jacob's ladder
Seasons change
Sustaining towers
Tendrils reach
Birthing a flower
[]
a tiny tendril
Fragile and pure
Unraveling beauty
In a stunning allure
Leaning eastward
The sun crawls to show
Vibrant velvet colors
In a spellbound glow
Eastward toward the creek; sunrise
aglow, casting magenta clouds.
Tonight's sunset will be our prize
Eastward toward the creek sunrise
A new day away from the crowds
Where the birds sing and there's no ais
Eastward toward the creek; sunrise
aglow, casting magenta clouds.
Picking imprints from everywhere,
Let all the woods your footprint bear,
Take off, nag at no rutted tract,
What if some rickety ways stare.
Throw to winds every needless care,
Let no head wind unduly dare,
Let the worse worsen, worst to get,
Let all the woods your footprint bear.
Mind not eastward you go or west,
If north, let not south ever jest,
Let no alien thought you attract,
Let all the woods your footprint bear.
Root out doubts as you’d thorny weeds,
Walk, brave only to their hearts heeds,
Let eastern nor west wind distract,
Let all the woods your footprint bear.
Letting no stumbling blocks scare,
Sparing none any endeavour,
Pricks of no space-time interject,
Let all the woods your footprint bear.
_________________________
Quatrain |14.11.2024|traveller
The setting sun
Can eastward turn no more
Nor recent path retrace
To blaze again
Throughout some re-run day
Nor spring-fresh leaf
Relive its glory
In autumn frost
Nor waning flower
Remake its beauty pure
To live again
The splendour of its perfect hour.
And who of man
Can turn the clock of time
To tread once more
The ways of years gone by
To live again a moment gone
An hour
A day
A lifetime fixed beyond control.
So help me, Lord
To live this moment
Just for you
For all I have is now.
John Puckett
Of feet crinkles crispy snaps with your mate,
as the ebbing tides that breaths winter's fate.
Echoes summons a dusty field in white,
closets freed skis and sleds still not quite right.
Few sunflowers escort its mentored sun,
facing their eastward repose position.
Brisk breeze tails a crafted shawl snuggly wrapped,
home, hot cider, lit fire, read book is lapped.
A forested cabin that's well-engaged
coast reservedly entertained assuage
A prominence forestalls in burgundy,
copper, and blonde. Snowflakes smooch tenderly
the fallen perianths. Forgivingly
melts to a smooth touch that norms Autumn's eve.
Maybe I seek meaning in the press of sympathetic eyes
Maybe within me resides a cancerous longing to shatter into a million tiny pieces
Maybe I will finally matter once tragedy razes the last vestiges of normalcy
Maybe I am a broken creature in a broken world, desperate to feel anything
I am an insomniac in the moonless night, plotting the end of my universe
I am a flightless bird careening from the top of a skyscraper
I am a suicidal survival guide to the purgatory of my own mind
I am what I've been made, a pale, pathetic being stillborn from the ashes of society
If I but had the courage to run eastward toward the dawn
If I could whitewash the blackened, soot-stained edges of my soul
If I had a blind man's courage, a dancer's grace, a mourner's strength
If sunrise brought resurrection from the death in darkness
So I wait, watching the wolves that prowl on the edges of my consciousness
So I dream, of flame and pain, of death and doom, of rain and sorrow
So I watch as life brushes past me, a stranger in the parkinglot
So I live, awaiting the devastation I know will befall me
NATO's war.
It was on a bright day in 1949 the Washington treaty was signed and later called NATO.
This treaty was purely an American undertaken and designed to surround Russia with enemy troops and sow distrust of the Russia based on endless propaganda.
When the communist system collapsed one would think
NATO was no longer needed, but no, not so, because
that organization had changed its character from a passive watchdog to an aggressive mastiff.
The US administration had promised Russia under Gorbachev that NATO would not expand further eastward, but this promise was quickly broken in the head rush of winning over an old foe.
Russia did not forget and forgive!
In 1991 Gorbachev removed communism from the constitution and the market economy began with volatile results until Mr. Putin emerged and made the country, right-winged and Christian and demanding
respect to stop NATO expansion eastward.
Here we are Russia in a country she does not want to occupy, while the “democratic states” are passively
defending a corrupt Ukraine.
the wind howls and whirls
eastward of the pier's fence
anchor chains jangling
May has come around
the thick, surrounding drizzle
continues to rain
under blazing sun
yesterday's raindrops dried up
the cracks look larger
Written: May 13, 2023
Wednesday, it was; Nineteenth, exactly if I must mention
Housewives, feeding kids and pets, were getting true tension
Eastward sky grew grey; impulsively, cattle rushed homewards
Nightingales, to sing of true love, tuned their trachea chords
Welcoming the moon and the stars on their valorous way
Habitats did bid goodbye to the scorching sunny day
Ethereal exuberance enhanced each environs
Naughty nocturnal nonpareils of April blow sirens
Wet with drizzles, weary winds wiped their whiskers on cool cloud
Howls of dogs, foxes, wolves, apes, and coyotes were heard aloud
Endless Rest promised the noxious sting of death has gone numb,
Nullifying negations, nature, notations new did hum
23 April 2023
I'm a flower; I stand tall and primp for the world to see,
As a blooming princess, I incur both acclaim and glory.
Shaking shyly under a whimsical sky in dull tree stumps,
Soft melting snow vacuums up my tumescent clumps.
Eastward, where the eagle's feathers spread for flight,
Glow magnifies, bidding farewell to the fading twilight.
Once the days lengthen, they grow rosier and warmer,
Wintry endless dullness for my darling little charmer.
Paving the way for brighter days and lifting the spirit,
Vivid illumination, glowing embers, ruby, and pure merit.
Vibe shone in dual heat, a starry sky coated in sublime,
As stirring winds sate the slight cold, of ululating time.
Awe-inspiring bliss at the first arrival of spring thrill,
The morphology of the blooms on the saffron daffodil
Ritzily jasmine, eerie whispers ripple across the woods,
Spring, my lover, spills my soul in its pacific moods.
Fields of color bloom with bright joy, in ribald delight.
Narcissus competes with tulips for greater height.
1st place contest winner
Written: February 19, 2023
In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Shadows stretching eastward
Setting sun in daylight lost
Fall creeps in on chilly fingers
Grasses matted by morning frost.
Trees comply ablaze with color
Flashing signals in Autumn’s roust
To feathered, clothed, or furry creatures
Storing food or flying south.
Grey fog gauzing upward
Where Canadas vector in the sky
Above dark waters cooled over night
Honkie-talkie as they fly.
Pumpkins glowing orange
Bundled corn stalks stripped and bound
Freshening winds start groaning-whining
Hints of change for frost bound ground.
Cotton to flannel to fleece and wool
Make ready for winter’s unknown
Top off the firewood, gas, or oil
Secure the harvest - secure the home.
An impossible love, too gentle to touch
A night-blossoming jewel, a rose-golden blush
A yearning surpassing the passions of man
A chasm of longing too deadly to span
Songs made of laughter, poems of tears
An echo remaining from previous years
Whispering fables to satisfy dreams
Unraveling slowly the world at its seams
Brilliant dust from a butterfly’s wings
Transcendent and lovely, dawn’s evening
A language forgotten and rusted by time
Scars crossing a sky untarnished by grime
Hope is the sunrise, a frantic race eastward
Spinning to a sunset, a plea sent skyward
Night billows out, a thunderhead over us
I am abandoned with fictions of what almost was
We three cats of Halloween are
Bearing kibble, we travel so far
Yield and mountain, meow and fountain
Following a witch’s star
Oh…. Moon of wonder, circle so bright
Moon with royal Jack-o-lantern light
Eastward leading, still conceding
Guide us to thy perfect sight
There is this gal I have been running after.
Every time after the other.
Telling her very sweet words.
How much I love her among the swod.
I feel wasted.
I look eastward as she is wested.
Every time I try giving her a word.
But she doesn't seem to accord.
Am I the problem?
Or she needs an emblem?
Perhaps my words are plain.
Maybe they do not align.
Is she tasting my patience?
But I have a lot of impatience.
For how long will I hit this rock.
No much time in my clock.
Every time I propose for an adventure.
She says she doesn't want to venture.
Whenever I hear her click.
I opt to join my clique.
I need your help guys.
Before I join the gays.
Should I give in.
Because she can't let me in
@Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk
Drifting among the lazy deep Azure sky of blue.
I gather unto myself the misty morning dew.
Creating pillows of beautiful towering wonder.
Where kids and adults try to see animals as they ponder.
On a warm summer day a chill is brought in from the wind.
As the darkness changes my beauty, a beckoning storm begins.
A swift wind moves me eastward at a surprising fast clip.
Deadly lightning and thunder fearfully to the ground it hits.
I see my people run for cover and I start to cry with drops of rain.
Knowing that in my Nature I can be the bearer of great pain.
Alas, Gaia is nourished with my tears as I return to glory.
A vestige of a rainbow is painted across the sky to tell my story.
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