Writings of a storm cold
The house gently
Creaks
From icy winds pressing against
Exteriors whilst slipping
Through
Small inconsistencies.
Sleet dances against window panes.
Piling glass against glass,
Particulates of infinite possibilities.
Fractals dancing down,
Tap dancing on rooftops.
I sit at kitchen table,
Bundled from the cold.
My only friend and partner, a
Dancing flame from candle
Casting shadows upon the walls.
Words scratching valleys and
Mountains across vast white expanse.
Scratching eloquence..
Moving still.
Plumes of billowy
exhale
surround my head
Like a haloed angel.
Tonalities of gray, from white to
A Dark and shadowy blackness.
Reaching out,
Ever growing,
Like the reach of sea creatures lost beneath vast depths.
Here I sit,
Staged against the cold.
A storm of ice,
From liquids fallen from skies with stories
Told.
I am their conductor.
Dance for me of wind,
Whisper in mine ear.
Settle still o house of moaning temperance
Against a northernly wind.
All the while my quill to
Parchment
Sliding out visions painted by verbiage.
As you enter the town you admire its lake,
the historical houses being quite quaint,
variety of different shopping just in case,
the restaurants there being tops and first rate,
Not too heavily populated and taxes are low,
the pace not too fast and not too slow,
you can rent a boat and on the lake row,
or climb the diving board and off you go,
Or you can go for a picnic at the park,
and afterward go for a nice leisurely walk,
crime is low so don't have to worry about the dark,
most people you pass by happy as a lark,
I think I'd like to maybe move here one day,
it's a perfect place for people to work or to play,
Id sit on my back porch sipping some lemonade,
enjoying the sun and the gentle breeze off the lake,
As the summers here are southernly warm,
the winters not northernly cold,
whenever I drive through Guntersville, Alabama
its so picturesque my heart just soars.
11-8-16
Expectant,
baby smiles and squinty eyes
raised to the sky,
waiting for the first glimpse
of varied hues, climbing
contrasting the denim blue.
Release the balloons!
Let them be free, in memory
carried away on a northernly breeze
Happiness emitting from the
radiant faces, pudgy hands
can't quite grasp, cant capture
can't catch me now.
26 July 2011
Flying by in broken
Thought. Eagles
soaring just below
thy midst as
ye role sweetly
to the west and
northernly.
Just aft a cooling
storm. Just aft the
cooling of my
being form gifts
dropping abruptiously
amongst the heavens.
Perhaps to drowse
another brethren
of man. To give thy
sweet brethren more
good news from
God's abode.
Tell me sweet
grand sea constellation
from which sweet
ocean do ye come?
Great! is the news
from the Creator
of all. Even from the
light that some of my
Brethren and i
call the sun.
The Sun. Oh! Great
God in the heavens,
The Son.
piercing thy spaces
Dark sun blocking
mass of dewy
crowning womb-
Yet to give birth
but dropping
dottedly the
prophecy of your
dreams. Giving
new birth to the
land and all
Earth's inhabitants.
As the Son of man
watches from the
heavenly throne
and from a birds
vantage all is being
seen. Great is this
Eagle soaring as
peaceful as a
Dove.
As birds coo soothingly
perched upon the wires
of man. Gusting gale
bringing thunder to
my thoughts and
flashes to my
mind. Cool drops
and mist whisping
to my unclothed
body and dampening
the cloth.