Dear Ear
Hear near
Fear bear
No tear
More air
Lion here
Jerk there
As the Sun begins to set
Darkness creeps in, and yet
There remains a magical feeling
About which at present nature is dealing
The blue Sky gradually disappearing
As the night is patiently gearing
To bring in the black dark night
And surround us all until daylight
The white puffball clouds now disintegrate
Before our eyes the dark will infiltrate
Our minds our souls for a brief while
As in, the field, disappears the Stile
Covered now beneath the shroud
Of night now coming in calling out loud
In the foreground proudly standing still
The bushes whispering in the gentle winds chill
They will still be there tomorrow morn
Are they bushes or ears of corn?
Hard to tell in the sad dim light
As nature settles down for the night
Eventually when all the blue Sky has gone
The sound of night Owls will linger on
A silent solitude will reign
Until morning comes again
It was a cool refreshing evening for a stroll
It was the yearly harvest festival celebration
A tradition in this quaint new England town
Full of fun activities and great food and fun
I stopped for a pumpkin spice latte at the open café
On my way to the town circle with festive orange lights
Smiling as I could hear the children’s laughter and joy
A small group of them gathered for pumpkin carving
There were harvest decorations of hay bales and mums
Displayed with orange and cream colored fairly lights
Twinkling around the huge tent full of treasures to find
And with fresh apple and pumpkin pies and hot cocoa
Many candles for sale in fresh autumn scents
Displayed in baskets of colorful fall leaves
A knitting group sat together welcoming all while
Knitting scarves and hats and mittens for the needy
I found some delicious hot apple cider and donuts
As I sipped and ate my treats I took in all the festivities
I bought a pumpkin candle and a fresh apple pie to go
As I walked away, I remember feeling joyous for the season
During my bicycle ride
through the countryside one evening,
I saw along the hamlet lane
in the quiet backcountry,
girls in plain dresses walking together,
brass pots shinning at their sides
to fetch water.
They moved towards the nearby pond,
with laughter, free of rank and pride.
Their joy simple and unrestrained –
a sight I loved to see
as I pedaled slowly by.
My mind paused a moment among them
unfastening the chains of inequality,
social evils and worries in life,
as I pedaled slowly down the dusty path
watching their simple joy.
The same haunting melody each time
ever the same when full moon climbs;
It is the sweet song of fuchsia twilight,
sung by the mystery bird each night.
An unknown bird, red and lilac tinged,
daily sings skies, from gold to orange,
Searing sunset into heart and memory,
It's the same song, never does it vary.
So we’re punished and estranged
Would it make us better?
So how sweet was the revenge
Does it really matter?
It’s like noting white on white
Maybe green on green
When you come, I dim the light
Blinded by the screen
As the evening soars my eyes
I calm down a bit
Thinking it’s the useful lies
Naked truth can’t fit
It’s like permanent repair
Of a thing unfixable
It’s unfair, but we didn’t care
Everything is mixable
So we turn out quite the same
As we were last night
Only now there is no frame
But just white on white.
highlighting night sky
sun says goodbye and departs
red and orangey kiss
Hello rain, nice to inhale you
You’re a great idea
And a great performance too
Good that you came here
Streams fall down bearing light
To my darkened room
Reawakening from outside
Gatineau perfume
Then a face comes from the blur
Darling is it you?
What’s this rain about, what for
The white light turns blue..
I sit near my gate
The dusk wind bends the tall grass
My old shoes touch dirt
Sundown creeps,
across adorned amber,
sky whose welkin,
shades volte face,
as evening edges,
into cosmic chakra,
of visual feasts,
orange, pink, purple,
prelude which emblazon,
point of day exodus,
atrophied moon winking,
mystic morph of,
dwindling halo,
to homeward bound,
throngs thirsting,
for redress within,
winter jasmine enclave,
cabal, clique, cluster,
in shrunken retreat,
from dreary toil,
nudge from nightfall,
whose cryptic code,
a dark art patois,
exemplified by,
eastern screech owl,
whose stocky medium,
and varied volume,
that twilight tremolo,
purring incognito,
among other creatures,
wet soil genus,
brisk firefly flash,
in town backyards,
wing rubbing katydid,
tree top rasp,
or amid green bush,
chirpy cricket,
midget burrow dweller,
allow oneself to wallow awhile,
in evening habitat,
in all its allure
Awash with fire tinted shade,
indigo a shrill magnet,
serene usher I extol,
as fool’s gold sky slinked
blue hue phase swift facile flit,
dust and gas spark burnt red lit,
magenta my bosom fair,
hue’d lithe peck, dusk flare
dim light
a flicker soft
recalls a past dream of love
in a park lit with silver shine
now just a memory.
The quaking aspens shake their silver leaves
like paper bells as evening breezes
dance across the lake's gray surface,
stirring gentle swells
that splash the pebbled shore.
The coo-hoo-hoo of owls is like a love song
softly sung among the shadows
of the branches high above.
The descant of the sighing breeze,
the rustle of the trees,
the owls' low harmonies accompanied
by the timpani of rocking water
on the bow of anchored boats
are all melodic notes that play
the unique music
of the evening.
Somewhere along waxed moonglow,
he drifts like a sweet aftertaste
on my lips...those warm fingers teasing
my frail wantoness
that even the pale moaning of his flame
becomes a thunder in itself.
And what is compelling about the musk
of this star is how one gaze can enter into
my universe fondling hidden caves
when he heaves gentle gentle love;
raw as touches unbuttoning my cellar:
A hundred whispers drape mounds
of my peak that burns in oil
and I succumb, we entwine... so delirious
into the lucent, stormy beams of his arms.
Till the falling of evening, when again
he strokes laughter on my hair
to linger on my trails undressing
my skin with songs of flowers --
while the malleable lightning in his irises
becomes utterly silent...tame.
the evening sun sinks, its image shows in the sea , the evening star blinks.
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