Is it logic
Is it impulse
Is it neither
Or then both
Is it Descartes
Is it Hegel
Is it Kantian
In our hope
Will we whisper
Will we dictate
Will we prejudge
Most devout
Will we wonder
Will we question
Will we pander
Into doubt
In the morning
In the noontide
In the twilight
Of our youth
Reason saunters
Reason flounders
Reason kneels
— before the truth
(Dreamsleep: March, 2026)
This nomadic wind
This nomadic wind, and along the way the buds are a fallen subtlety
i have gathered them all, paved to greet your way
Accept , please accept them all, with thy humble hands.
When I am no longer around, they will blossom around your flowerbed.
your fingers to weave a floral necklace , remember with heartache and pain
as if I am there with your remembrance
The sleep deprived nightingale is a response there with a failure and the pain, tonight , an absorbed tonight!
a pair and their own,
a pair and their meeting churn
moonlights floodgate and the full moon during the festive moon
the subtle hue are all willing there, there when tomorrow is lit up
during your fatigued noontide.
As petals open one by one
I think of rehabilitation
But who am I?
Wild Irish rose I used to be.
I am a part of what's in you
I am the iris of your eyes
I am a black panther prancing in warm rain
I am a brook finding river, reaching to sea
I am quiet dawn awakened by the Source
I am noontide warmth
I am rainbow glow of evenings
I am a good night sleep
I am morning inspiring you
I am the humble eye, renewed each spring.
*
Noontide cordial sun immerse golden spheres
Birch and aspen leaves rhythmically quake
Susurrate deep in quietness appears
Timidly on soft earth shadow path wake
There, where nesting birds await safely perch,
While conceal sweet are their audible waft.
Cool breeze twine spider's web and bees who search
Stunning modest simple-ness echoes soft.
Lone senior British oak outstretch thick arm
Grasp weathered fraying pendulous tire swing;
Mid saffron blaze whilst it mingles off charm
Espy hushed cries for mortal yielding wings.
Lush meadow pigments an emerald green
Self quenching natures pulsing rapture scene.
11/19/2023
I love thee not but only when
in morning time the daisies sway,
and blackbirds trill and do convey
that dusk turns dawn to strive again;
like fragile boats that go astray
in wild and roaring boundless seas,
bit by bit all unknowingly
to sense thy touch my nerves decay.
I love thee not but all noontide
when hopelessly sunshine I chase,
and go all out yet can't erase
my timeless angst that burns inside;
from all the ends and every place
thy gentle odours slowly creep,
and seduce me to fall and sleep
remembering thy sweet embrace.
I love thee not but every night
when splintered hopes I blend anew,
and pleasant thoughts all raw and true
do strike my breast to paint and write;
through moon and stars with vivid hues
thy sweet face enhances the sky,
and bit by bit through lows and highs
I better in my dreams love you.
sunflowers
turn their long necks
to face
the midday sun.
dandelions glow
as bright as
sunshine.
a woman
pricks out
marigolds
in blazing
embers of noontide.
in golden yellow field
child
chases butterflies
(yalto)
Writing Challenge - Y words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Theme of choice: Yellow
Syllable count: 3,4,2,4,5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5
Date written: 05/06/2023
My multicolored garden has such a sunny outlook,
Like the fleeing dawn shadows daylight overtook.
Not minding the storms, they drink up the rain,
For veritable growth, often comes with some pain.
Windblown near a rose bush, is my marigold orange,
Contrasting with the scarlet, I'm always adoring!
And in noontide peace, trees seem to be napping,
In graceful emerald beauty, as fervor is sapping.
Lotus lily pond, of the deepest burgundy blooms,
Float softly upon water, trailing fragrant fumes!
Never complaining, always showing its best face,
Is my yellow dahlia, bringing cheer to anyplace!
Written on 3/22/2021
For: Enter the 'ALL YOURS (Mar 23)' Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
MORROW yon today cast is now
OVERCAST shadows white clouds
RAINY not project of this forecast
NEXT precept compass
INTENSE light, heats bright
NEAR rising shines
GOOD morn rises the sun
SHINES ON, shines, shines on
UNCLOUDED blue cleared path
NOONTIDE sun in all it’s heated, lighted, brightest righteousness
3/3/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
Rain pours against the windowpane,
As all the world has gone gray,
With dark skies all the noontide,
And foul weather keeps us inside.
Like vivid autumn leaves fallen,
Once exotic dancers on the wind,
Soon dead and buried in snowdrifts,
In keeping with the rule of the
Seasons, one dance in golden sun!
Like the afternoons daily dying,
For some vivid lives are shorter.
As the rainbow lasted for a moment,
Leaving memories before it went!
We should've been sad
and blue, but strangely
we found ourselves caged
in saccharine-sweet ecstasy.
She walked away, leaving me
floating in the clouds,
with bejeweled memories
to steadfastly hold on to.
Tenderly, we kissed, then
she gives me one more
upon my brow
for the road on parting.
Within stone-throw distance,
she slowly turns her head;
her hair flopping
over her smiling eyes...
in the noontide zephyr.
she blows me one last kiss,
and we exchanged waves.
A most beautiful goodbye.
COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (13)any form any theme contest (Winner: 1st Place)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date written: 06/16/2020
Steady thrums of May rain
have soddened the evergreen earth,
and peonies are in full bloom again.
Hallelujah! A sublime rebirth.
The beauty that is spring,
as bright and colorful as the rainbow.
Foxgloves let their bells swing
as butterflies float about the meadow.
The sun shining in the noontide sky,
so hopeful and illuminating.
Petrichor swirls in the air like a fruit fly.
Its scent couldn't be more intoxicating.
The human race dance with glee
to the young spring's piano sonata.
Music to my ears! Bald eagles soar free
and nightingales compose their dulcet cantata.
The beauty that is spring,
as bright and colorful as the rainbow.
Foxgloves let their bells swing
as butterflies float about the meadow.
Date written: 05/01/2020
In big sky country,
Joe Schmo wanders off
into the prairie at daybreak
with his rifle to hunt for
game birds. His dog fetching for
ones he shoots out of the sky.
In big sky country,
a homestead family is busy
at the ranch gathering hay
for their livestock;
the kids excitedly
play cowboys and indians.
In big sky country,
wild stallions sometimes can
be seen grazing the tufts of grass.
Farmhands often drive cattle
in the grandeur and majesty
of the western Badlands
In big sky country,
a rooster loudly welcomes
a new dawn; wolves often seize
the night howling at the moon acapella.
The refreshing breeze sway
the tarrying wildflowers at noontide
In big sky country,
lose yourself in wondrous oblivion!
You'll never see a more gorgeous
sunset. There's an embarrasment
of riches to discover there.
I'm in a Montana state of mind.
Date written: 04/07/2020
view,
incredibly
striking.
Idyllic
otherworldly
noontide.
ocular
feast
picturesque
and
resplendent
another
day
in
sacred
eden
Date written: 04/05/2020
Charms of Nature
Noontide cordial sun immerse golden spheres
Birch and aspen leaves rhythmically quake
Susurrate deep in quietness appears
Timidly on soft earth shadow path wake
There, where nesting birds await safely perch,
While conceal sweet are their audible waft.
Cool breeze twine spider's web and bees who search
Stunning unadorned simple-ness echoes soft.
Lone senior British oak outstretch thick arm
Grasp weathered fraying pendulous tire swing;
Mid saffron blaze whilst it mingles off charm
Espy hushed cries for mortal yielding wings.
Lush meadow pigments an emerald green
Self quenching natures pulsing rapture scene.
2/9/2020
there will be no complexion of autumn
to reflect upon these trees in month's to come
just the small shimmer of gold
from the temperate heat of a risen sun
as it peeks between the untrimmed pines
strewn across the rocky cliffs
in the eternal rise of the mountain's tops
that fade within the folds of clouds
towards the azure skies, where heaven lies
yet darkness lingers in their shade
in ebony cascades amidst the rolling hills
that only lose possession within the valley below
where buds take their short-term lease
upon the barren soil of july's scorching heat
in a scant array of sanguine blossoms
that loom within the leaden thistle, almost unseen
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