Majestically, she minds the masts
on a million misty mornings,
unfurling her sealskin sails
against a pearl-glass dawning;
impeccably, ivory light illumines,
shimmering softly on silver waves.
She holds her position proudly;
sails, pale petals upon the spars,
unfold in porcelain splendor.
Her gaffs and yards, bright shafts of light
banish darkness before her,
a single white rose sea rising.
Copyright, July 10, 2026
In the midst of daunting artistic slumps
Staying despite how tirelessly tried,
May inspiration strike you abruptly
Like an archer nails a precise bullseye.
May your work’s blueprint suddenly reveal,
And may you gain bold determination.
May all the pieces bond majestically,
Achieving your creative perfection.
Perhaps, one day, in the midst of blankness,
Your work shall strike the right strings of the heart,
Inspiring further beautiful works,
And thus you shall live on through other arts.
May this poem motivate and inspire
To cultivate our soul’s artistic fires.
Many a morning I wandered
as a cloud along unchartered paths
smiling at stiff mountain peaks
challenging my momentum.
Droplets of mist glided gently
along edges of glistening leaves
fresh from nightlong sleep
wrapped in blurred blanket.
Tall trees stand majestically
paying tribute reverentially
as starlit canopy brightens
with blooming radiant dawn.
Songs of birds afloat in sky
spread wings casting a spell,
as jocund spirit sways amidst
magical cadence of tranquility!
I began life as a humble seed over four hundred years ago,
now I'm three hundred feet high and I continue to grow.
I live in the north of California not far from the coast
and I'm the tallest tree on earth; that's no idle boast.
I have a native American Cherokee name; I'm a Sequoia tree.
But folks know me as a Redwood, and that's fine with me.
I consider myself very lucky because I am still alive,
many of my friends have perished in wildfires and didn't survive
So, if you're driving up the coastal highway you can't fail to see,
me and my Sequoia friends and family towering majestically.
I hate to chortle at the sound of broken laughter,
Just like I refrain from weeping when dancing smoke fills my eyes . . .
But when dogs mourn alone,
I chafe my hands with the cold of tears of solitude.
Monuments and cairns I crave among the icy
Terrains, where dogs’ paws leave eternal marks —
The print-marks of an important visit,
Evidence of life on desiccated earth.
On board The Fram they sailed majestically
In the beginning,
Before joining a steam of blizzards they escaped from,
Returning home, northwards, gelid and depressing,
For a funeral of dogs,
The ceremony of age,
Attended largely by silent yaps of strayed thunder.
Summer’s End
The sun begins to set a little earlier now—
a gentle breeze brushes past my suntanned face and
I walk briskly on the sand which feels cool beneath my feet.
My pace quickens, like the prance of a Cat on the prowl.
Once home, the trees which line the street on which I live
stand majestically tall. No longer still, they begin to
sway to the music of the gentle breeze which softly touches
and fondles the leaves with a caress that only the breeze can give.
The air envelopes me, telling me it’s cooler than before—
and I run to the place that I call home,
Glad to be sheltered from something I feel in the air—
from a sky whose sun, today, will shine no more.
I pause in the house whose windows openly beckon the freshness of the crisp breeze as it quietly enters, gently pushing aside the ruffled curtains, and as it filters through the rooms—
I suddenly realize, it’s Summer’s End!
Up above a lone bird soars high,
a speck of movement in an azure sky
tainted, with the faintest streaks of white.
It spreads its wing majestically,
sunlight reflecting off its feathers,
glancing off its back.
The wind is its sole friend
as it glides over land and sea,
mountains and trenches,
cities and forests.
It goes wherever it wishes,
surveying its dominion below.
The scenes it will see, only it will know.
It flies far beyond the horizon,
pivoting and diving like an arrow
enjoying the cool air rush past its body.
Effortlessly, it glides
through sun, rain and snow,
nonchalant about what follows.
As it journeys without end across the plains,
it knows it is minute in comparison
and that its journey has just begun.
And so as we leave it to disappear from view
on its endless adventure,
we are reminded that we are not so different from it,
and it's about time we spread our wings.
her sharpened cheekbone
cutting the blustering wind
majestically
Soaring above the lake of my summer home.
Bringing back supper from arduous roam.
The oak trees lined the lake with beauty so serine.
With birds of life flying into the trees as they sing.
I gently land slowly on a pristine mirrored lake.
As my feet skid on the water, creating a wake.
Majestically, my wings flared open for my gentle rest
My young hatchlings swam to me as they leave their nest.
Gently, I nudge them back to our sacred abode.
Sharing worms with them as their beaks take hold.
Contentedly, I sighed as my love for them fills my heart.
Soon, sadness will come as they will be ready to part.
Until then, I will guide them into this life of beauty that never ends.
As I, a mother, will always watch them with love and lament.
A wise mouse lived alone in a narrow hole he had dug
in the soft soil in the backyard flank of a large house,
whose owner had a pet cat that seemed the master
of the house, for she moved around majestically
in the sprawling premises with an agile feline grace.
Once as the mouse was sniffing the ground for food
the sprightly cat chased him, but failed to catch,
for the alert mouse ran like lightning into the hole.
From that day the cat sat all the while by the hole,
waiting for the mouse to come out in search of food.
The hungry mouse faced a problem of life and death,
choice of death from hunger or being a prey to the cat
became a huge predicament, but he chose the latter,
for there was a chance that the cat wouldn’t be in sight,
and outside the hole he could find fast food to survive.
After his stomach was full his brain started to work,
flashing a novel idea across his confounded mind.
He crawled cautiously, dug a few more holes wide apart,
the confused cat didn’t know where the mouse was,
who was happy for inventing a bright piece of thought.
Moral : A little thought can solve almost all problems.
True love, she's always seeking.
Broke up not too long
Find another who truly loves her
Proposed to her that same year
She's ready, to let go of her past
She was absolutely happy, It's her wedding day
The long waited day, unknowingly to her it's a bad day.
It's her ex
Coming for revenge
Holding unto offense
Ready to defend without pretense
He still love and want her, not ready to let go.
As the preacher man says,
Do you have anything against this union
He stood up and walked majestically
Down the aisle, straight to the altar
Such an hassle, he's a *******
With all eyes on him, he uttered everything
She screamed; nooooo... then she fainted.
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand.
Rolling them over and over and over.
Leaving reality behind, far behind.
once an eagle
with a clipped wing
attempting
without surrender to once again
command the infinite azure sky;
continually nosediving
whenever tossed in the air.
his convalescence
punishingly long;
now complete.
embarking on a mission
to quiet doubting Thomases
that sounded a death knell for him
and laughed him off as
a paper plane
incapable of flying
far beyond the horizon...
look at him today!
look at him soaring above
majestically;
his journey
from the depth of asperity
to the dizzying heights of majesty...
m a g i c a l:
almost miraculous.
he's withered
the slings and arrows of life
intact; he's in flight once again
a testament
to his strength and resilience.
I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.
Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically
A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.
Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.
Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Hypnosis Theme (feat. Marina Quaisse) by Wax Tailor
Enamoured with myself, I walk my garden path
Where the grass grows tall
Snapping off a long piece, a whistle
So shrill the dogs howl
Dandelions greet me
Their sunny dispositions radiate hello
How can I not make myself a dandelion crown?
Can I not take what I own?
Daisies dance - pleading pick me, pick me
He loves you, he loves you not
No worries, love
I will pluck your petals until my answer comes up
Scent pulls me farther along to
a sea of roses at the edge
Their heads held high, defiant
to the waves crashing below
Can I not pluck again?
They are mine, are they not?
I suck the pulsing red reminder
That we own nothing but just us
I try again, as they are mine!
A snip, a blossom cupped in hand
Cascading petals into nothingness
A mockery of my intent
Small acts land large on nondescript days
Majestically humble sea of roses
Here to teach and touch and love
My ego in my pocket, empty-handed I go
I didn't pull my weight
The boss was really sore
He said "you're second rate
and I won't take it anymore."
He continued raving
On how I was misbehaving
Said my job was not worth saving
And so I longed for Avon
Avon by the sea
I must go back to Avon
Avon by the sea
When my lifeboat needs a haven
When my problems need a maven
This is where I need to be
There's a ten-mile barrier island
It's not that far away:
Where ospreys touch down majestically
and beach forests gently sway.
But also on the Jersey shore
are the roots that once made me,
In the little town of Avon,
and when all the walls are caving
and hunger turns to craving
I retreat to Avon,
Avon by the sea
I took the train last September
Got off at Asbury Park
Strode the miles of boardwalk
Had to stop at coming dark.
I had regrets, I shed a tear
Then I saw a dolphin at setting light
At Ocean Grove I sat on a pier:
And on the shore it seemed alright.
I've paid my dues, I made my plea
They say I was guilty in the first degree
Let me lose the past in Avon,
I'll fly in like an escaping raven
Look! My friends are wildly wavin'
in Avon by the sea.
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