spring is a nice time
watch the grass come up is nice
love this time of year.
"to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature" William Shakespeare, Hamlet, 1601
towering redwoods
forest dwellers born before Christ’s time on Earth
spreading arms to lofty heights
dwellings provided in hollow, cave-like trunks
wrap your spirit in the redwood cocoon
feel the cool, dark air
refreshing body and spirit
refuge from summer’s heat
speak to me, redwood tree,
tell me of times past
when Native Americans cherished the land
and Jesus preached in Galilee
out of body, one with the redwood
journeying through history
living in a time tunnel
where past meets present
trees that know what man has forgotten
ancient tribes with sacred values
surviving earth-changing cataclysms
surrounding us with secrets to share
if we dare
dwell within
this broad, mystical expanse
redwoods’ memories
by Carolyn Devonshire
for Constance’s “The Tree” Contest
April 21, 2011
Will there be enough time to forget those lives
How could I think time would erase my pain
I miss them in the weeping sighing rain
I feel their presence as I watch the tides
As spring renews the earth on every side
And garden in even rows like country lane
The love they in helping plant remain
But on my heart, your laughter_love abides
So many places your quick laughter will disappear
Never to be heard again when I cross rim
So now I enter my quiet place
Where their being never set foot or showed face
Saying, "The memory of them is not here!".
And there weeping stricken remembering them...
(Remembering mine and my husbands parents)..
One moment in time could change all you've dreamed of
To know that time awaits new adventures and revelations
To stand tall against the wind and other elements
To calm a storm maddened by nature's emotions
One night could mean a magical oasis to be unveiled
To allow one's thoughts to run a path parallel to fantasy
One evening might bring or leave a mystical mist of mystery
To give an essence that potions are a mix of chemistry
To hold and capture the creative side of many
To exhibit for all the world to awe and see
To take and spread the meaning brilliance amongst the unknowing
To open hearts of the endearing
One last hour could give reason to acceptance
That no one man can control and conquer the realm of life
That one last minute constitutes all that you've learned
To finally know that all is not always lost or forgiven
To truly know with dying comes peace......
Time has carried me so close to old age
Will acceptance be added to my traits
Accepting comfy shoes, not latest rage
Having become old__many varied weights
Hobbling to a electric grocery cart
Every time visit Wal-Mart, grocery
Definitely does not look very smart*
But time hasn't carried to cemetary
What about cane or horrible walker
Acceptance with time maybe be mellow
Maybe even become a sweet talker
Or cataract surgery_ odd fellow
Time has carried me_acceptance my plea
Live my life with grace and each day with glee
(Chic, fashionable)
Heavy frost has touched the leaves and ground
Elephant Ears are frozen brown
Pears profusely lay upon the ground
Not turned into preserves or spice jam
Gourds are hanging green upon vines
That have died and turned brown
Signs of winter approach without a sound
Ginko still green even though frost coats it leaves
Holly stands tall with red berries in green
Crow still caws from post in woods
Life goes on even if not understood
The Running Rose hangs loaded with buds and blooms
When the sun warms the air will the Rose still bloom
Or will they all turn brown on their lovely face
And then fall to the ground
No they were spared this round
Out on the cold, cold porch
To commune with nature and God
One more time for this time of praise
One more time for this time of peace
As we walk along the river of creation.
We begin to watch the rocks at our feet for those of interest by sight.
And those of which was collected had brought many thoughts to mind.
These rocks of ages are the Stones of Time.
If these Stones of Time could see and speak, we would hear the story of all the ages.
And as a visual check begins to decipher the stones, many variations come to mind.
For each stone is different beyond compare.
Shape, color and contrast are all there.
Through thousands of years the stones had formed yet in the beginning were they already
there?
For they are neither animals nor plants, yet they exist.
Each one different yet the same in a mysterious way.
And those with holes from dripping rain.
Aggots with much beauty are they.
The earths crust is embedded with such time lines such is a tree.
Yet, many answers still lie in the Stones of Time.
Copyright@March 2010 MaryM.McShirley/Kilker
none of us
will see the next century
none of us
will see the next dimension
why should we care?
but they feel it
the empaths,
the watchers, the light,
of creation
its coming, change
on broken wings,
it flies past
as the world
peels off her layers.
she reveals herself
to be in torment
and we parasites
go about our
everyday life
ignoring her screams
for our mercy
so if I the poet?
can draw attention
to her plight
I will scream
I will curse
I will burn effigy of
every god known to man
its time to notice
its time to take action
So I scream
a thousand poems
and cry a million tears
until the wash
of my sound
can be heard
For the first time
I allow the sun to blaze into my eyes
To heal my injured cornea
I allow the tender wind
To dry my watery eye
I await the sun to come back
From every building we passed
For the first time
I adore the shining surface
I willingly gave it a glance of beauty
It lusted upon my face giving it a blow of life
It came upon my dark life and gave it a glow
Gave it a hope, gave it the feeling of freedom
The position of power
And For the first time
Before the arrive of dusk
I adored the sun…
Days never like today
Days without words to say
Simply a brush of nature, a touch of cool wind
Heard was life
Colors survive
Moments before and after… like a dream
Loneliness felt unlonely
A troubled mind felt easy
Simply a lesser time for moments more
Even the rain is light
Arriving earlier as well is night
Of moments only felt, never for time to recall
Almost like a cure
When only a self knows to be pure
A part of a life lived… perhaps learned
A return never will be the same
For the world forever will change
Moments choice less in times only… earned
A name that brings rain to mind,
washing fresh the air.
Clouds embracing night time sky,
moonbeams scattered there.
Winds that carry scents aloft,
having me breathe deep.
Lightening dazzling the eye,
memories I keep.
Snuggle in quilts soft,
or stand on the porch to watch.
Cup of hot chocolate,
in my hand, with foamy froth.
Lights out, candles lit,
there were times it gave a scare.
Each time I hear it,
the name, Stormi, takes me there.
** side note. I grew up with a friend named Stormi. Each time it rains or storms, I still
think of her.
Entry for "Even A Name Can Be Poetry" contest.
Hostess: A Rambling Poet
Placement: Honorable Mention
What a time in a day!
When sun takes rest
And moon becomes the king
Stars warrior become inspiration
To many poets, astrologer
Peace spreads its Saree
To protect ears, rest mind
When learners learn, lovers love
When whites shine, milky way
When earth sleeps, hearts awake
This is the time truly brilliant.
by:-
Vrushani Thaker
Hearth of Winds
From west to east you plumb axisal spin,
And darted on the limbs of the poles.
On longitudes and latitudes, you are dotted in silhouettes.
Just above the horizon of age, you journeyed,
Beckoning the threshold of syllabubic windfalls.
Sated with doldrums of lambent haul,
And the pomp of sycamore hover instill.
When you call again at the Isle of trench,
The oracles of time shall tune again the aviary.
Seated upon the pillion of days the carter roves,
Tilting in all directions with hopes of succour.
A long way from time indeed you are,
But as the tides of valour surmise you triumph.
Once I saw an array of humanic acclaims,
In a manger of Sylphic heath of tenderness.
The hills of tonic travails titivating the hold,
And all the flakes of materialism dancing attune the vista.
The tales of deeds will forever entail polemic puzzles,
And the spate of the weaver’s loom shall reckon amidst.
Adeola Yusuf Amuni
Once wild Iris was young
Lush and green next to the pond
She splashed and drank
Had her fun, warmed by the sun
Soon came time for her to settle down
She met Louis Tanna Iris that wore a crown
A crown of yellow, yes he wore
He wanted to marry and have more(Little Tanna)
Her wild ways was hard to tame
But the years began to wear her down
No longer was her hair of bronze
But mostly white shining in the sun
Louis Tanna came to a early demise
For his feet became way to dry
His leaves so healthy became yellow
Soon his crown no longer spry
This was the time that she did grieve
She did not even meet her daily needs
Of food, exercise, and her devotion prayer
Now wild Iris is totally Care (free)
When the world was created, much was entrusted to man
Yet, throughout the centuries and from every land
Not nearly enough good men have stood to meet this challenge
Once again we have failed and nature will have its revenge
The devastation happening today is nothing new
A continual lack of reverence shown by what we do
Your goals all obvious, you will never hide
As God sees all of them as the time abides
Whether you believe it or not, the time is coming, soon
When all our injustices will go past the moon
The what, when, how and why, don’t matter
Your pretense at caring does not flatter
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