I welcome Autumn with a fond embrace,
Feeling Autumn's breath upon my face.
From high upon my Smoky Mountain stand,
I pause to behold Autumn's artistic hand.
Mist lifts slowly from the valley floor below,
As if a curtain rising on a long awaited show.
A majestic painting unfolds before my awestruck eyes,
Highlighted by the golden rays of a bright sunrise.
An endless carpet of trees, wet with morning dew,
Blazes with candy-colored leaves of nearly every hue.
My mind fails to recall a more stirring sight,
As unbidden tears upon my cheeks alight.
The sweet smell of ripened apples, littered on the ground,
Mingles with the earthy scent of mushrooms that abound.
Life is sustained by the season's bountiful fare;
Wild berries, fruits and nuts grow carelessly everywhere.
To eat hand to mouth is my childish heart's desire,
So, Autumn is the season that I most admire.
The Stream Of Greedy Dreams.
From the crown falls the stream,
the stream of greedy dreams,
which making its own way
flows all night and day.
It washes away the meek sand
and overflows the small pebbles,
but narrows itself amid
huge rocks and mighty hills.
It flows among crops and trees
and also among no use weeds.
It grows by length and breadth
and tries to drown the whole earth.
Alas! The end comes its way
as it mingles with the bay.
The dreams get lost in the sea so vast
Made of many dreams so lost.
I met with Him
Before we were nothing forever.
I did not speak of feelings;
The strength of my words
Could not be measured.
It was enough that I was with him.
As the sun is with the air,
As day mingles with night
in the twilight and in the dawn;
Two Oceans overlapping,
Caressing every shore.
In every moment we shared
I absorbed him.
He will remain in me
Long after I am gone.
I will carry him with me
Until I reach my end.
And He will know,
Forever:
That He was Loved.
gravel drive dust mingles with sunlight
As sunlight slides behind the hill,
A dim moon mingles with large stars
I see some patterns with a thrill
As sunlight slides behind the hill,
And constellations, all paths fill
While sailors note their old memoirs
As sunlight slides behind the hill,
A dim moon mingles with large stars.
Placed 1
“Like the river that mingles with the sea, we move quietly towards the ultimate source when our restless journey comes to a halt to commence a new life of peace and ease” ~ By Poet
With a mighty roar
and blasting winds,
the rains ravaged the earth
in feverish frenzy
gushing forth in torrents.
Soaked to bones
the trees stood trembling.
The rain water
began flowing in clear streams.
It flowed down,
mingling with the river.
The river carried it
with a lilting lullaby.
holding the rain water in her bosom.
Winding down through
valleys all along,
the river mingled with the ocean
waiting with open arms.
No need to roam again
as its journey is over
and it has finally found its home!
Isn’t our life like a river?
Through struggles and sorrows,
we rush alone, restless
looking for a resting place
until we mingle and merge with our source
never lost, but swimming into new life
as the night mingles with the day!
The more I learn about people,
the more I like my dog.
~attributed to Mark Twain
She is decidedly anti-mingle,
preferring her cozy hermitage
in the verdant valley meadow.
She feels like Rip Van Winkle
waking at last to find the world changed,
but really it happened so fast!
While she wasn’t watching,
the world remained unrestrained
in its quest for pleasure.
Her hermit house was secure
with boundaries to keep people out,
except for delivery drivers bringing this and that.
Even a hermit has to eat,
so she mingles on social media
a little bit chagrined she needs technology…
because she talked it over
with Pippi and Poppi, the Pomeranians,
and they agree it should always be.
just we three!
My metabolism went missing~
moseyed off one lazy morning,
mumbling something about
mandatory moonlit me-time.
Now it mingles with mischief,
maybe munching on marshmallows,
maybe meandering through
mysterious medieval corridors
with zero motivation to return.
Meanwhile, I’m here~
making peace with my monstrous midsection,
marveling at how one small,
slippery, stubborn system
can stage such a spectacular
metabolic mutiny.
PS “Wherever my metabolism wandered off to, would you at least send a postcard?!”
Follow the imagination of a simple poet
who writes of a lush meadow
mingling with a summer wind
and bending blades of grass
that sway in time with songbirds
who's rhythmic music glide across
the peaceful serenity of green grass
While their eyes are beckoned by white caps
and melting snow
that lay beyond the forest
forming waterfalls to nourish the meadow
bringing life, at its own pace
Where the poet's imagination mingles
with the written word
creating a meadow touched by a summer wind
With a nod to Dylan Thomas...
I go gentle into the night
Those when moonlight fondles the sea
And those when its pallid in flight,
barely glowing through clouds at me
I go gentle into the night
without need to rage against life
nor the urge to purge from my sight
drummers who overflow with rife
I go gentle into the night
as every day comes to its end
waking before a glimpse of sunlight
mingles with dawn's blush as they blend
The void vibrates—vast, violent, vivid~
and the stellar symphony silently swirls.
Orion's orchestra joins in, oscillating overhead.
Through celestial currents, silver stardust spins~
serenading the silent spheres with songs
spun from supernovae’s spent suns.
Planets pause in their ponderous paths,
pivoting with stardust in peaceful pirouettes~
a ballet performed in the boundless blanket of night.
A combustible comet crusades through the cosmos
cantillating a melody only Jupiter understands.
Saturn's sapphire strings strum along softly~
meteorites murmur past the Kuiper cliffs.
Venturing through velvet skies,
Venus violins verses from its volcanic plains.
Mercury, with its metallic mass and molten mist,
mingles with stardust making marvelous melodies.
Stardust entwines with earth’s ethereal embers~
now effervescent, stardust explodes into song
serenading sentimental poets like you and I.
Time, it sometimes can shift at edge of night.
where TV mingles with your drowsing thoughts,
old lovers duke it out in some gunfight;
defending cousins in some ancient forts.
Your mother's arms protect you from wild dogs.
Somewhere, father is asking, "Where’s the beef?"
while you are outside chopping winter's logs
for Mickey Mouse's long-gone coral reef.
And you, upon the couch, view all of this.
You are, you say, superior; supine.
So have been all through time, you reminisce.
Yet more so through consumption of red wine.
The TV will soon die, and you awake.
Then who will witness those that you forsake?
The devilish—smiles
lurk among banquets and
hallways. Lights
too bright, duplicity
mingles with what is
real, wears masks no
longer, conspicuously in
the brim of chilled-glasses
toast to the greed
of mini-gods…while earth
drinks in disdain to the blood
of the innocents. The alleys—
dim. Death in black suit,
Impatient no longer. Simply
grins as flesh rots—
in catacombs. The cold wind,
that passes by, too close
to reveal. If only silence
can whisper their names—
but in chains.
He is day's melody
adorned by sun-blessed winds
rich and dark the manly warmth,
he always holds me ,caressing my hours
with spritz of a thousand songs...
Commanding flowers to unfold
the scent of his presence
mingles with that unmistakable
woody musky aroma,
lingering in whiffs of air,
heady and ambrosial
a fragrance natural, not bottled nor diluted
that my ardor burns.
And I become his starlight , his woman
he leans on me for water's sustenance,
with pulses of reverence and wonder.
Somehow , at all times I know.
in a forest of naked trees,
his potent balm protects our nakedness...
It was ours, this spirit...not to be shared
LULLABY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
lulled by languid lullabies
leaves lay light, lost in dreams
morning mist mingles muted
whispers of warmth woven in web of the soul
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