Long Naturesummer Poems
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The whispering trees
Shed some leaves
Upon a wind that blew
To a castle door
A message for the Summer Queen
Of tapestries not yet made
Or the reason for
The Summer Queen
Gathered every single leaf
Blew a kiss to the whispering trees
Closed a Castle door
Took the Great Winding Stair
To her chamber
To begin ….
The Great Forest Tapestries
Leaves of every colour
Every shade
Of bark and bough
Through the seasons
Of tapestries not yet made
The Summer Queen
Touched all the leaves
They came from one tree
In all its’ life
As a seed
Sapling
Mature
Tall and green
To the end
As an autumn leaf
Gold and brown
The leaves were carefully laid
In a basin of jewelled bronze
A trees’ life in colour and shade
For a Summer Queen to make
Of tapestries not yet made
Trees of magic never die
They live on tapestries
A soft leaf
Texture of bark
To be seen in the galleries
In shades of green
A forest within the Castle walls
Soft leaf
Texture of bark
Of branches unseen
You felt the power
Of a tree
A soft leaf
Texture of bark
Most of all
Its’ heart
In a tapestry not yet made
The life-span of the summer rose has been all too brief.
Now October winds gust; maples have shed their crimson leaf.
Tho' dreariness abounds and for brighter days we yearn.
Just wait! In due season the roses will return!
The colorful roses that bloomed and gave so much delight,
Now repose 'neath the drifting snow, but they'll be alright.
The Master Gardener will tend them and because of His concern,
He will ensure that in June, the roses will return!
The sun will ever shine above that drear wintry cloud,
And tho' the gloom and depression seems us to enshroud,
Wait! A pristine summer sky those blues will overturn,
When again in June, the roses will return!
When wintry gales shriek and rattle the window pane,
And cheerful thoughts and optimism are hard to attain,
Reach deep within your soul and all anxiety spurn.
Just remember that in June, the roses will return!
The seasons hasten on and we await another spring,
With its life-sustaining rains and robins on the wing,
With daffodils, tulips and violets amid the fern,
But most promising of all, the roses will return!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 2 in Flower Power Contest
Balmy summer air to southern climes doth repair
On horizon, blue azure panels shaded with smoky tincture
Silky, white fondue relpaced by pallid, silver hue
Fondling, summer breezes; gripping, autumnal wind freezes
Cooling waves react with fertile leaves; amber gown doth
retract
Nutrient-rich chlorophyll doth spill and sugary saps rill
Anon, doth ween a bright, colorful sheen
Golden crescents and cherry strobes with lobes iridescent
Rounded discs on Global Willow in creamy glaze mellow
Spiny-toothed, Red Oak leaves flossed with reddish-
green gloss
Sugar Maple stars bathed in a bright pumpkin lathe
Ovular Blue Beech blades are brushed with a brackish rust
Veins of Aspen heart umbrella bleed bright yellow
Pentagram lobes of Sweet Gum gilded with purple robes
After scintillating charade, garnished blades began to
fade
Leaves' life-giving juices the stout bough refuses
Nutritious store salvaging trunk doth score
The regal, shimmering gown now shriveling crown
A duller shade of brown on the crumpled folds redound
Last gasp, its withering anchor doth cast
Descending from mercurial splendor to mother natures
blender
August 21, 2012
The warm summer morn
Came slowly onto this land
Spreading the delicate perfume
And filling the vale to the brim
Unaware of the miseries down there
She brought gifts for all
Gifts of ripe and juicy fruits
Gifts of sweet smelling flower
The green grass swayed with pleasure
The brook rose up to meet her
The birds started their welcoming songs
To see the last of winter
But down there
Men killed men
And women cheated each other
Totally ignorant of the summer morn
Children were bought up with bad words
The clouds of hatred
The mist of distrust
Enveloped the whole city
The soft summer morn stayed on
Trying hard to spread joy
But the ripened fruits were stolen
And fresh flowers were crushed
The city became dark and desolate
The grass bowed its head
The brook dried
The birds prepared to leave
The soft summer morn sadly turned away
The chilling frost settled happily
The place became quiet and dead
With dreams of a beautiful morn
By Tahera Mannan
Sunrise For HG’s contest
The Willows
To where the wisps and the willows blow,
From where the sun always shines;
To where the morning light is pure
And its warmth is true and fair;
To where the beauty of a youngsters smile
Is fine and born to they,
And the sound and worth of a simple word
Is heard where the willows sway
To where the wisper of a summer wind
Is warm to soothe the soul,
And the quiet patter of a softer rain
Past by so long ago;
Where here the motion of time and place
Is as calm as that summer wind,
And a child's smile makes sweet the dawn
Here where the willows sway
by m.n.
marklnorton@shaw.ca
Form:
Summer came in with sizzling temperatures
and stifling humidity,
A long awaited respite from the frost settling
on the trees,
The extreme fluctuation in degrees made the
population uneasy,
queasy.........
not knowing what to wish for,
warmth or cold,
perhaps anything in between,
The heat had everyone up in arms,
trying their hardest to fight off the over
exaggerated warmth,
Then the rain came and cooled
the land,
an unexpected hand.....
slowly, but surely Summer vanished
leaving everyone ambivalent
still not knowing which climate is best,
very hot,
very cold,
eventhough Summer had its moments of rejuvenation
and good times,
This year it was not missed,
because of the scorching climes.
When I am under summer's spell,
I'm like a child at "Show and Tell".
I want to hold it in my hand,
To brag and shout, "Is it not grand?"
In other seasons I'm discreet.
I don't go skipping down the street.
The beauty of a sunny day
Takes my maturity away.
I quite regress to my past youth.
I'm young again and that's the truth.
I dream this February day,
Beneath inverted clouds of gray,
Of blazing sun and summer heat
And browning to a golden treat.
I yearn for sun upon my skin,
The warmth of summer seeping in.
Vitamin D my ardent crave,
I plan to bottle it to save.
In my Northwest home's winter haze,
I will still have my sunny days.
inspired by Christies "Soul of Sunshine" contest.
Falling leaves
Bright reds and greens these fallen leaves
When the sweetness of summer dies,
And overhead did flicker in mystery
Ever brightly the falling leaves
I’ll rest my eyes when the wind is calm
And children retain there smiles,
When the only thing that mankind sees
Are visions of late fallen leaves
A breeze did rustle the brightened plains
Here in the freshness of autumn,
But still remains our summer gone
In the softness of late fallen leaves
By m.n.
marklnorton@shaw.ca
Form:
AUTUMN AMIABLY AMBLES in, SENDING SUMMER SLIDING.
MODESTLY FLAUNTING her brilliant bright wear,
While SAD SUMMER SLOWLY SLIPS away.
Thus it is often the seasons collide.
One is too eager to put on her show,
The other reluctant to give up her reign.
SWEET Summer is BITTER for being ousted,
While Autumn CALMLY and BELLIGERENTLY pushes her out
Knowing full well that her own time will come
When Winter will VIOLENTLY EASE her away.
Spring however, abides her time.
She's never too early and never too late.
Spring SIMPLY SPARKLES with splendor while she is here.
For John's FREE WITh SPECIFIC LIMITS contest