I went for a walk through the woods, like I do each Fall;
for it's a sensual treat at this time of year.
And I came across a grove of ancient oak trees,
shedding amber, yellow, and golden leaves;
gilding the ground, like scattered nuggets of gold.
The air smelt of Autumn, an earthy-sweet musk;
cool, crisp, and invigorating.
A chattering chipmunk scolded me incessantly:
as I neared a knurled stump, it was guarding;
loudly chastising me for invading its space.
The ground crunched and crackled under my feet,
as I walked on a bedding of filigreed leaves;
resembling a golden fleece.
As brisk breezes rippled through swaying treetops:
their bare branches rattled like skeleton bones.
Indulging my inner child, I fashioned an Autumn Angel;
spreading and swiping my arms and legs,
I sculpted an Angel out of leaves instead of snow.
And I lay there awhile smiling, soaking in Nature's magnificence;
immersed in the grandeur and beauty of Fall.
A shadow of the self
but a sliver of me
you know the inner self
and the turmoil that can be
Perhaps I have shown
you more of my self
then I should, or was wise
But for once I could not cover with half truths
and never do I speak lies
Perhaps its the outer me
I should have shared all along
The person with all the strengths
and no cracks to be shown
And yet the seams are there
the careful repair of my life
The jagged edges filigreed
embellished against the strife
The stress fractures of my soul
gave to your gentle hand
And it frightened you
to meet the depth
and the truth of what I am
So I will seal up the cracks
put back up the structure, hide inner
me from view
And extend the hand of friendship
start over
and clean up my "act" for you
You say I make you dopey,
well I am goofy in response
All I know is I care
and not just for a romance.
Trying to connect (C) 1986 Susan Manley
Autumn's stillness of scarlet and gold dawn
Burst open and wanders upon the lawn.
A graceful butterfly flutters alone
In the garden's foliage and fruit grown,
Under a spreading tree's playful leaves blown.
A special secret the garden does own.
A fairy in a world of magic fed.
Braided crimson pansies crown her small head,
Waves of chestnut hair, the calming wind spread.
A gown of small green leaves and velvet red
Rose petals, sheer gossamer wings outspread.
A small old gold filigreed Celtic cross
Around her neck, tied in green Irish moss.
A shimmer of awe on its lovely face
In love with nature, a childlike sweet grace.
2/18/2023
Sing this song of immortality
This rhythm of life lived in neuro fire
Feel the tone of deep oscillations
Taste the song on tongues divided!
The rise of empire
The building of the divine
The godhood of man at the base of creation
Crucified on crosses of iron,
Feeling electric columns of fire!
So sing this song of empire and redemption
Sing the righteous song of rage
Feeling the rhythm of ages
Immortality of wings
Rise this jade n gold filigreed crown
Grace this delicate stage
Sing!
This empire down
Watch the west the coming white
The empress of non & nothing begun
Watch the razored ravens take flight
Sing!
This empire down
This rhythm n rage of life as neurons fire
Crash this bloody ruined crown
Sing this song of immortality!
This!
The righteous song of rage
Feeling the rhythm of ages
Empire down!
Regged are the faces
Drowning in waste
Lost forgotten out of place.
Gold does not fade or decay,
it knows no warmth or kindness
only filigreed in bone laces of gold
Walking the highways of drifting sand
Under the fluorescent glow of Walmart signs
& Stop n Go's...
Lost children in a rich land,
Desolate and sterile
Lost and forgotten
Displaced by man.
SOLD!
Gold does not make one wise
Only the fool makes that compromise
But with a little thought and love.
A whisper from one above
Sparking the will to build stone
& to help the less than one...
GOLD!
Woven in bone...
Provide warmth
Heal the broken
Enrich the Wantin...
Feel the heart;
a purer Gold
deeper in bone n marrow...
With mercies coin
A gift of charity...
Ragged maybe the faces
Digging out of these wasted places
Lost and still
forgotten, but never
out of grace...
Golden!
I am walking in the garden
of an ancient city
The walls are covered
with climbing ivy of a delicate hue
The dews are thick after the warm rains
There in the middle, the stately statue
withstands the stains
Covered in ivy of a intricate green
Blooms of unknown life glowing red
I trace the path of last foot falls
The age is broken and anew
Stone is cracked crazy filigreed
In the ancient courtyard
I follow it down a foreign history
The sun splashing though over growth
Over head the winds unsettles monolithic trees
Exotic birds sing songs to creation
The gold, ambler, crimson leaves take flight
Dripping on the weedy ground
Puddling in the warm sparkling rays of a dying sun
Leting it spill over me
The fading green bright fresh
In this ancient city of Avalon
This lost garden of Eve
The last empire of Adam
Mans only memory
Walking this spiraling path
This Helix of Eden
Vivacious children, drama Queens and Kings
wearing mother rags and big old father hats
One held a pot with a silver spoon for bang
the other held an old guitar bereft of strings
Gathering their peers they opened up the show
in Jimmy's huge garage, a row of plastic chairs
One played the flute the other favored drums
picking up the tune they all began to croon;
Later when the sun emerged behind a blue hole,
the starlet brave and sure wearing filigreed barrettes
sang and clicked her heels to the rhythm a
cacophonous band, playing on and on and on.
May 27, 2021
FLOWER IN THE CRANNIED WALL
I tower above the crumbling ruins
Of a once majestic tower,
Flag and pennant proudly proclaimed
Pompous claim of pelf and power.
Yet all the boast and bombast,
In crumbling silence relates,
Of transient tenebrous things,
Of fickle times, of fickler fates!
Filigreed fronds in gentle sway,
Butterfly-hued my petals smile,
Delicate poise, yet firmly gripped
By roots who’ve been awhile.
So here I sit so up on high
Exuding sweet allure,
Biding time in changing climes
To wilt and die for sure.
But then, again, I’ll never die!
My seed will traverse to distant land
In nurturing avian gut to drop
In crag or cranny - to make its stand.
(And phoenix-like I'll rise again!)
Your flame melts tears into the pool of wax
that remains in the filigreed dish that was your life,
growing ever dimmer as I gaze into your aged eyes,
those familiar eyes, the brilliant blue, graying
where time yet lurks as discarded shades of youth.
Lying lost in eternal abandon, you gaze upon me,
a vacant stare hiding memories of moments past,
of loves lost, no more memoirs to be written,
no awareness of now or seasons passing;
nothing abates your eternal smile, so gentle, so sweet.
Though you are still here, you left us long ago,
the woman who bravely yet tenderly
guided me through my youth, loving me for a lifetime;
whose flaming hair, bright as an autumn sunset,
expressed the essence that flavored your soul.
Now, yellow roses and white carnations adorn the lid
closed tight against grieving eyes and curious guests,
no more to look upon your beautiful face,
no more to hear the melodies of your wistful songs,
finally at rest, at peace from this worrisome world.
Sleep now my love, my gentle flower and know
I will miss you. Oh, how I will miss you.
09/08/2019
Farewell, Summer
Welcome blue September skies
Chasing away dry, warm days.
Slow dwindling cool daylight sighs
Chill autumn sings, gazing eyes
Touch a maze of rhythmic brushstrokes.
Spoiled frosty air creeps and cloaks
A soul of perfection beneath
Shadowed shade encircling wreath.
Whispering filigreed leaves
Filled with tickled laughter weave
Watercolor tangled blaze
Chasing away dry, warm days.
9/9/2019
Warm, cornflower blue September skies,
Chase away end of summer
Escorting in the beginning of
Unruffled, cool, wet, autumn
Shortening the days.
Days of exhausting work
From dusk until dawn
Bring a successful abundant harvest
As summer closes.
Touch of living gaze and jump into
An intricate maze of crescendo color,
Flickering in a tangled blaze
Of whispering filigreed leaves.
Mother Nature's natural unspoiled
Watercolor weft tapestry.
The air creeps along
Filled with tickled laughter
Bring shedding leaves down
Onto the ground cover.
Rainy, and sunny filled days
Raise a gentle favouring breeze
Journey under gray and orange skies.
Nature's essence,
Of harmony and rhythm
A soul of perfection beneath
Shadowed shade and sigh
The flow of rapture proceeds in joy.
Children go back to school
On the big yellow bus
Driving the bus driver crazy.
8/29/2019
October Kiss
Mother Nature’s Art Gallery Exhibit
Blue October skies, fall and autumn days
Gaze and jump into the maze of crescendo colours
Flickering in a blaze show of filigreed leaves,
Mother Nature’s art gallery exhibit
Blends of orange, green, and red watercolor tapestries
of bedding plants, emerald green grass
Nature’s light guarded secret as we watch in wonder
Of cool nights, rainy, and sunny filled days
As whispering breeze kiss raises a gentle flight
Bringing shedding leaves down onto the ground cover
10/1/2016
1.
Murders in congress
grimly ponder on parapet walls
on the grim reality of lost homes
and loved ones yet unborn -
their casual caws more muted
than the usual cacophony
of careless camaraderie.
2.
The still dark night
of scintilla-ed canopy
and eerie filigreed fingers
of flora bereft of foliage once lush
limned against the pallor of
moonlight mocking at men
reduced and humbled now
from their hubris then.
3.
Candlelight dinners
bereft of the trappings and finesse,
a gourmet's grumps bring together
rediscovered ties
of familial bonds under the thickened web
of electronic sludge and slime
now briefly removed.
4.
The sweet lullaby of a
distant mercenary generator
puts me to sleep
in the comfort of knowing
that i am not alone.
Troglodytes in surreal settings.
Lost like unused syllables in unrhyming words
petals of frilled sorrow drip to the earth from weeping trees,
crying each filigreed petal slowly, one by one,
in cascades of gentle tears to their tender rest,
shaping billowing beds of brightly colored pillows,
until soft breaths of evening breeze exhale long sighs
through longing limbs creating whirlwinds of smiling fragrance
in the fawning dance of each nectarous petal.
Like lover's swirling in life's last dying embrace,
reflections of cold loneliness slip past with each fallen bud.
Soon the flowers will be lost in winter's stark gray advance,
and the smooth bark of the Crepe Myrtle will lie dormant
yearning for the elongating warm caress of Spring,
and its delicate chiffon cloak of humbled innocence,
again hiding its discomfiting gnarled nakedness
behind silken vales of scintillating incandescence.
11/07/15
Butterflies-Competition
(Mosaic Butterflies)
Behold! Sunny spots sprayed on
Filigreed ebony wings
Encaged in
A golden frame.
An artistic delight!
Didst the cruel hands
That caught
The sacrifical victims's soul
Not get painted
With Psyche's
Multi coloured hues?
Thou dainty aery winged breath
I doth know thou flappest
Thy beauteous wings
Restlessly fluttering from one
Radiant bloom to another
Sighing but for the
Sweet nectar of
Thy amorous Eros.
But hark! Appease thy
Love lorn passion for
Bountiful honey yet
Shut thine eyes to
The beauty of flowers
They not be thy Amor
Who sleeps in
The deepest of slumbers
Ignorant of his Psyche
Being wafted into beguiling hands
For mortals to enkindle
Her peerless beauty
To be mounted on
Mosaic beds for museums.
SIXTH
Balveen Cheema
August 12, 2015
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