The world outside is vast and bright,
Soaring buildings and lakes so grand,
But its high groves fade from sight,
In the moments I just hold your hand
A simple touch, a glance you hold,
Shifting in the air that stops time,
Turning ash and grey to molten gold,
Like lightning singing to you in this rhyme
Do you feel it softly, tingling and kind?
Of perfect peace beyond compare,
Empyrean is what I always find,
In the laughter, we so often share
Your gentle voice, a calming sound,
quiet strength, a steady grace,
My heart's happiness can be found,
When I'm safe within your space
At my judgment in a far-off place,
I'll want for no moment yet to view,
'Cause the only heavens I belong in too
Are the ones, when I'm with you!
When I was just four,
Baba would walk me through the olive groves,
his land stretching endlessly,
acres of trees—each one a memory,
each one rooted deep in the soil of home.
He’d set up a ladder for me,
let me climb,
picking the dark, ripe olives
from the branches heavy with history.
“Go inside,” he’d say,
“bring a bucket of water.”
I ran, feet light on the earth,
filled the bucket from the well,
its coolness a moment of peace.
But then—
a scream, sharp and raw,
cut through the air.
I rushed outside,
and saw the flames—
huge, fierce,
devouring the olive trees,
the ones Baba had cared for,
the ones my ancestors had planted.
In the distance,
soldiers stood,
their smiles cold,
ruining everything we had known,
burning the heart of our land.
I dropped the bucket.
The water poured uselessly on the ground,
while the fire took what we had left—
our home, our history,
our future,
turned to ash.
Redolent spring air
aromatic breath of life
sublime lemon grove
In the bamboo grove where sunbeams gently shine,
Emerald leaves glisten, a vibrant lifeline,
Through bamboo's pores, the wind's sweet serenade,
Melodious music in the grove is made.
Parrots, cuckoos, and mania birds take flight,
In this colorful haven, they find their delight,
Bamboo's lesson, in the storm, it does convey,
Strength and flexibility on a gusty day.
Survival's idol, in harsh weather's embrace,
Bamboo bows gracefully, offers its space,
To sprouts that flourish in its fading light,
A testament to life's unyielding might.
By night, the bamboo grove takes on its charm,
Moonlight through leaves, casting a tranquil psalm,
In the heart of romance, trees gently sway,
Knots become ladders to love's higher way.
Plum blossoms under the moon's silvery gaze,
Eternal lovers, through endless nights and days,
Trees stand tall, branches shelter blossoms pink,
In this grove, friendships and fortunes link.
Orange grove goddess of the Florida Keys
Citrus in her veins, rejuvenation in her step
Oozing fruity frothy saccharine sweetness
We tiptoe around her swirling juices
Fearful of her wrath if her trees dry up
She is not a nice goddess when angered
Bringing in tsunamis and other disasters
Shh! That’s her I caution the wind.
The ocean knows better than to irritate her.
Springtime orange grove
Fresh and fragrant blossoms bloom
Inhaling deeply
Revived by cycle of life
Caressed by playful sweet breeze.
During this unsettling time
I find much relief walking
beside the lemon grove.
I take my time on the
same route every day.
How the lemons
and my life has changed.
The trees have already flowered
and small green lemons appeared.
Soon they grew larger and bright yellow.
As I walk each day
ripe lemons fill the trees.
Some have dropped and scattered.
I wonder when or if they
ever will be picked and crated.
I watch a hawk soar above and I think
what it would be like to be so free
and able to land where ever I want.
Today I find one perfect lemon
rolled onto the roadside.
I pick it up and place it in my pocket
with an image of how it will taste
with dinner tonight.
Serenity in Scenes of Mother Nature Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
4-7-20
Joan Fingon
get up do this
don't just sit
health is weath
get up get up move
rock that chair don't just stare
DANCE TO THE
REHADE GROVE
sentinels
anchored on the coast-
cypress grove
May 1, 2018
Come on let's get down it's funk time let shake sweat and bake let's party come on move let's Funky GROVE it to
I’m Off to new lands
Away from my dearest home
What odds shall I face?
Strangers all around
Nowhere for me to fit in
Kind of lonely place
Oh but I have you
Tender hands wipe tears away
Strong arms to embrace
You’ve swept me away
Beyond all the city lights
Fingers interlaced
To the countryside
Hidden in the Grove: A Castle
For me to be Queen
Paddling a canoe
Past green to deeper waters
Anxiously alone
Bow cuts the morning dew.
In the Prison of our minds
Half-conscious moving on
One eats the midday meal
During another weekday's grind.
Walk back from corner shop
With what you went to get.
Then a breeze invades your senses
And just briefly there you stop.
Awakened late at night
A sweat drop from your fear;
But you hear downstairs your cat purr
And collapse back quite relieved.
In the news a man was murdered
No one important, or so they say.
He had taken in a poison
And stumbled dead, was how it's worded.
The man worked selling lumber,
Had a girlfriend and ex-wife.
Arsenic was ingested
But just who killed him wasn't known yet.
His daughter is being questioned
She's five-years-old and doesn't know
Where her father has gone to
And crying, calls out for him again and again.
Fragrance enveloped me
as I stepped
into the enchanted forest.
Dim light filtered
through the canopy.
Brown clusters hung from branches;
dead leaves, I thought,
until I saw
flutters of orange:
I had found
the magical place
where the butterflies gather.
***
The drought
has been merciless.
Trees are white skeletons,
the ground littered with bark.
Sunlight hits the dust.
Where
will the butterflies
sleep?
8/3/2017
Move and Grove
Dance down the road
As if no one is watching
Live with child-like abandon
It's the Best way to have fun
Live to the beat of your own rhythm
It's how it should be
Sadly as we get older
We began to care to
Much about what "they"
Will think
We end up loosing
Our joy in the process
Sad isn't it
For twenty-seven years I have lived here
inside this little city, Pleasant Grove.
I live too far away from sisters dear.
Not easily from this town could I rove!
I live here with a dog, a cat and spouse.
I hardly know a thing about this town.
I’m here because it’s where we built our house.
A few main streets I’m used to driving down
yet hardly know my way around this place!
I also do not know its histories.
One thing I like (for me, its saving grace) -
it’s home to many varied gorgeous trees!
My own hometown I know much better though
I spent my childhood there so long ago!
Written Jan. 3, 2016
For the contest of Silent One: Sonnet about where you live
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