Enchanted Forest
Dedicated To Ms. Jersey
Enchanted Forest telling a beautiful story to me,
as I was walking Ms. Jersey there.
My, what a grand gesture,
they were telling, too!
The leaves flowing slightly in harmony,
with the winds.
Each one of them, giggling as I stepped further.
Mother Nature gave a kiss,
of sweet cooing,
from the morning doves.
The trees saying hey; don't forget about me,
as I walked past; touching each, while we,
continuing along our walk.
I stopped to look back at them all; they each,
waving by leaf.
Mother Nature has her mind, and it's well-accepted,
in my heart.
As Ms. Jersey and I; "Danced in the Forest of Enchantment."
Inside a deep pine
forest
where morning mist still
lingers
an unknown bird takes
away
my unfinished dreams.
Dappled light touches grass
tips
wakes them up with soft
caress
whispers to them morning
song
kisses tiny crowns.
Light and shade play hide
and seek
among them now all my
dreams
waiting for butterfly wings
to take a new flight.
##################
SUMMER IMPATIENCE
Now it is glorious summer
And the winter of our discontent is turned
Into a sudden sea of dandelions without number.
This morning I walked out across the park
Which I cross every day.
Yesterday it was merely green and stark,
Patiently awaiting its bi-weekly trim by noisy machine:
The high-point in its half-monthly existence
As a small part of the city’s spaces green.
But today it was a riot of impatient weeds,
Yelling with tiny voices yellow and bright,
Rapidly bursting from their dormant seeds,
As if God woke up this morning from His oblivion
And, as an afterthought, commanded,
“ Let there be dandelions.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
NOTE
The first two lines of the poem are closely modeled on
Shakespeare’s famous lines in the play RICHARD III
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written by Sydney Peck
Entered in Debbie Guzzi's Contest Summer
I awake to an early morn, still dark,
to singing birds greeting the day,
Sounds of chickadees and the lark
invade my slumber before sun's first ray,
making sleep impossible to stay.
Wakefullness comes with melodic song,
more soothing than an alarm clock ringing.
As the morning progresses along
more birds join in to the glorious singing.
Such serenity to my morning they're bringing.
Feathered songsters bring such joy
with the music that they choose to share.
The tones and pitches they employ
travel through the still, quiet air
creating melodies, oh, so fair.
Fairies Gala
Fairies waltz on branches of oak
In cool, misty haze of morning dawn
translucent wings laced with fine golden strands
fluttering 'midst dense new leaves
glistening in sun light
dew-drenched knarled trees
guard lush green enchanting place...
Kissed by morning sun
intruders
turn on
sprinklers
~*~
By A. Brigham
For Constance La France's "Nature 4 in 1 Contest"
Crystalline
Kimo
Haiku,
Senryu
Soft, the Morning Dove,
does greet the new sunrise.
Calling me to waken,
wipe sleep from my eyes.
Drawn to my garden,
as sunlight starts to breach,
to lay a golden crown,
upon mountains, out of reach.
As a gentle breeze comes,
calm and serene I kneel.
Dance, the delicate blossoms,
on their petals revealed.
Fresh morning dew,
Perhaps to take a sip,
would taste of flowers,
sweet upon my lips.
For the contest: Good Morning
Sponsored by Francine Robert
Placement: 1st
The moon’s chariot has long passed
Merry morning is approaching fast
The azure sky is lit with the sun
The stars are hidden their glory done
The sweet goodness of the dewdrops
That from soft petal drops
Towards the sun it turns
With open arms for the warmth it yearns
And every blossom in this morning bright
Take the gift of dew from the dawn sprite
Life with new born hope and fresh courage
And the power to break every bondage
Rises with this good morning
And soars above gloriously shining
The last icy tremor of your wintry winds
Fizzling through the choked air
Leave your thinning threads
In the oncoming fairyland of Spring.
Welcome, welcome, first lady of creation
Your sweet smelling grass sheds tears of dew
Tears of elation as morning peeps
Your foetal clouds bathe us in your re-birth
As winter threads its' skeleton hand
With its' new love Spring
And with that a new energy is born.
Song and lilacs greet the dawn
Early birds furrage for the nesting days
Through paths of bluebells they ferry twigs
Celebrating the beginning of morning light.
Fresh air exhales baby crocus buds yonder
While the swelling sun in giant splendour
Can no longer conceal the first flush of Spring.
The world is awakened by its' might arrival
The dance of the daffodils is about to begin.
For Francine Roberts competition Bring on Spring
I trail along behind the morning chirpy magpie
to liberate from the materialistic vice,
sturdily race up the alley of rocky green hills
horses galloping on bright yellow daffodils,
i earnestly climb up to the hill prime
i embrace the nature vigorously with a warm smile,
i stop and admire the glorious countryside
while the fresh morning breeze runs down my spine,
cotton candy clouds floating high up in the sky
butterflies and bees tireslessly rises up high,
i watch the sun wakes from the distant misty horizen
capturing every exhilarating moments,
releasing lifes turbulance,grief and torments
while witnessing gods most amazing attainments,
around me tranquillity and calm,everything at peace
listening to birds singing,with such ease,
bluebells and dandelions majestically hovering care-free
the earths countryside musk,purifies me,
i notice the morning star gradually fades
while the rays of the sun exhaling,canopys the earth shades.
Silk cobwebs glisten
Waiting for the morning breeze
Filled with morning dew
Kissed by an angel
With lips made of morning dew
The morning glory
Waking up in the light
with shining things to do
giving thanks to the moon
guiding my way
feeling the wind
when day feels bright
walking freely
in morning light
the rays warm my skin
the sun lightens my soul
the morning lets me feel
the secret life holds
the lush green grass
add a quick bright view
at a glance,
with cool felt dew
the beauty of creation everywhere can i see
and thats how its like, walking in morning beam....
Kissed by the angels
With the lips of morning dew
The morning glory
Skidmore College - Bolton Hall
Saratoga morning mist
naked legs wrestle a
breeze - the living
section of the morning
paper floats freely
across patches of green
grass beneath incredible
pines. . .
Out there, beyond evergreens
drenched in morning light,
a destination, unknown
as pavement stretches
wraps, curled about broken
limbs and patches of ice. . .
A few steps left to climb
and I stip to dream, half
seeing hungry birds peeking
at a single blade of grass.
And, as I glance up
a brass sign tells me
this is Bolton Hall.
Nancy Duci Denofio - 2001
There's nothing like the morning glory
That kisses the morning dew
It welcomes the morning sunshine
That it's beauty awakens to
Some proclaim it's only a weed
But it's really much more than this
The essence of anticipation
A touch of Heavenly bliss
It's time to shine is fleeting
As it labors to greet the light
It's name proclaims it's majesty
As it sleeps thru out the night
Another flower has never been found
That's so wrapped in mystery
Awakened by an angel's kiss
Each morning so magically
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