Winter magic endearing
in a world of great wonder
laden plant life snowed under,
a white blanket, enchanting.
Children's face warming glow
of excitement to peek out
wide eyes and smiles with all-out
play in sparkling clean white snow.
Making snowman mid-winter,
snow angels, snow fights raging,
entertaining, engaging,
world with magical winter.
1/11/2024
Marsh rabbit
Jumping through the swamp
Eating swamp grass and
other plant life
Brown is their fur
so they can blend in
With their surroundings
A good hiding technique
Photogenic rabbits
They stop moving
just to blend in to
the landscape but
people still get their photo
Baby marsh rabbits are
the cutest things
So little you almost
miss seeing them
On the way to the beach
I look into the sand dunes
and other plant life
waiting to catch a glimpse
of a marsh rabbit jumping
around or eating on the
side of the road
They are the cutest rabbit
I just love them
The veins in the leaf are molecules that transport water along with sugar - you say where, to the brain, to what, the nuclease of what the plant is, what?
The soil is only so deep, large trees dig deep, small flowers don't have the capacity.
There is a dichotomy, there is a richness, a beauty, a world in the mechanism of the plant life that surrounds everyone.
Everyday you see the birds, the ground squirrels, the ants and spiders, the
milkweed butterfly, the cloud in the sky, the rows of corn, the sheep and the goat, the cow, and the chick, fish, and the wheat,
but there is more.
The flowers, the clay, the bare Earth from water that filters down through.
People do not talk, at least not enough as history shows quite clearly
That is what I think.
I am not blaming the next, I never had before believed
that the solution would be left up to the few
but if you would, please take the pulse of the leaf each year,
just place a leaf down and push a crayon over it in order to show
it's imprint. Just do it as a simple experiment on your own.
Please.
Along a distant path,
Rife with fog and and glimmers of plant life
A melodic sting slices through the heavy air.
The high notes almost pinch ones eardrums,
The low notes luring you to sleep.
Lines on a page forming one unknown melody,
Filled with highs and lows,
Fast and slow,
A story only some can hear.
The melody teases the ones walking,
Beaconing them to follow but always staying away
Hidden among the hanging willow leaves.
Only the ones who can read every peak or drop,
To figure out the maze,
Can find the source among the wisps.
Music is found to entertain,
To raise you up and push you down,
To encourage.
But only some can feel what really goes into a piece,
To be able to flow with the lines,
To forget the page and leave reality behind.
To find themselves floating in a forgotten fantasy,
Forming that unknown melody,
Tempting others to follow,
And to join.
A hobo healer
Just wandering and healing
Rocking with plant life
Making healing number one
The man, the myth, Doctor Moore
My houseplant committed suicide.
It came out of the blue - or at least - I didn’t catch the signs.
I’d put it on my window ledge so it could catch some sun
- it appeared to be having a good time.
I brushed it with my elbow - the wispy kiss of a butterfly
and it leapt to its shattering end - I never will know why.
The girl it barely missed, looked up - in accusatory alarm.
“What if that had been a BABY!” I yelled, to keep her calm.
We had a terra-cotta funeral - my roommates seemed really sad -
and a reception where no plant-life was consumed.
Lisa, acted quickly - she’s a fashionable 911
and at the funeral she buried the corpse, in a new pot, in her room.
the sea winds calling
calling beach tides thrilling
thrilling woodlands for hiking
hiking along streams vibrant
vibrant wildlife still sprawling
sprawling plant life enthralling
enthralling cobble streets for strolling
strolling perfection in a New England town ~~
a New England town of actual living sounds -
sounds like I should permanently settle down:
Leading a simple life are solid folk.
Many fish the sea for their living.
In city life, they would be slowpokes,
but here time is for deep breathing.
Old lighthouses dot an idyllic coast
and fishing boats fill the scenic harbors.
There’s shellfish aplenty for dining ardor.
Many inns are old homes of lace and charm,
reminiscent of America’s youth.
There are old horse bridges and farms
built when pride was America’s truth.
There is much history to relish
and nature that stirs one zealous.
New England is the good life embellished
and an address that I would cherish.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
A severe risk as a result of the global warming challenge
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
It is not due to hairspray or baby oil; it's our fate.
Rapidly melting Arctic glaciers are causing damage.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
Carbon from fossil fuels is the major emission element.
A ferocious shockwave of metabolic blaze stage.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
Concerns around the ozone hole depletion sprout.
Sea level is rising due to melting ice and warmer plage.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
War and turmoil look trivial compared to climate.
Despite that our kids are at risk, newly threats emerge.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
To allow plant life to thrive, we need to alter our zest.
Retain the air safe and car-free with zero carbon discharge.
Our planet is weeping, and faith is at low and vacillate.
Concerns have arisen as an outcome of a wavering climate.
Written April 20, 2021
A MAJOR WORLD PROBLEM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Lin, a Chinese friend giggled at my feeble, say,
pedestrian attempt at Cantonese,
the Chinese word for butterfly or dragon even moth
just vanished down the throat of one
so eager yet befuddled,
turning egg shell noodles under spit fire lanterns,
our laughter rose and fell amid the sotto voce banter now in train.
Me, the woodland boffin, immersed in esoteric marshland plant life,
the sort that rules the grand designs of green leaf activists.
Lin, the restless late teen nomad,
who had yet to sink deep roots,
often dwelt in backstreet fruit and flora stalls.
On occasions even flexing sylvan muscles
on craggy mountain tops.
Her flawless English honed through years of rough sea ferry ventures,
on holidays abroad in trendy sunspots,
at major meadow festivals where gaiety and buzz words sprout.
We keep in touch through text and pen as often as we can.
Meeting up is fun.
I hope one day my knowledge of those mystic eastern tongues
will stray beyond the basics of some tawdry travel phrase book,
the one I’m prone to cart around the world but seldom use
Contest : YOUR PERSONAL FAVOURITE
Date judged with N/A : 4 th August 2021
I believe in faeries, unicorns, gargoyles, plant life, elves, and spirit orbs.
Magic is not a giant leap in my world;
it is not merely accepted but embraced.
I believe in goodness, hope, and the luck of handsome leprechauns.
Mysticism is within my reach,
accenting my own unique talents and powers.
I believe in sunsets, moonbeams, pixie dust, and clairaudience.
My experiences have paraded forth
a truth I could have never conjured in my own imagination.
My spirit guides, power animals, and familiars are working constantly.
Giving me the open heart I need to do my work in this abstract word.
Dawn is upon the rise of sunlight
Eve a sleeping moon lit by the sun
Clouds cover both day and night
Rain are the tear drops of God
Rainbows are colors of glistening lights
The wind blows these colors away
Summer brings heat for life to live
Fall brings bare branches and leaves
Winter brings fresh water for plant life
Spring brings back new life to trees
Each day of every year a new day begins
Creating and destroying life on earth
A cycle that keeps the earth spinning
New becomes old and fresh withers away
All life on earth is born to die
None knowing what lies ahead after death
Science is all but a guessing game
For a creation cannot teach how it was created
Only the creator is able explain it’s creation
If my belief in God is wrong I have lost nothing
If I have no belief I have lost everything
Gaia’s Gift
A sacred tree I plant for my life
For all she offers me
Shade and protection and so much more
She offers me rest for my health
Growing in beauty each day, whispering her secrets
The healing power of her leaves, her bark, her roots
Of the light filtering through her leaves
Until they fall to compost new growth
I am your tree
Giving you life with my breath
The burst of my blossoms in springtime
As your children play in my branches
Enthralled by the home I offer to all
I give you the fragrance of my fruit
My oil for your hair and your health
Wood for building your boats and homes
In ageless wisdom do I stand tall
Until I am felled for your coffin
And mine
For I am your very life
As I am mine
Do the deed and plant my seed
Once I have fallen
So our story continues
Yours and mine
Flamingoes stand on one leg
If they are cold, it's said
They tuck one leg in their plume
Why not tuck both? there's room
If both legs were tucked in tight
The Flamingo would lose height
It would become a legless bird
One that's never been heard
Of, I know that the Flamingoes Pink
This comes from its diet, I think
Crustaceans in all shades of red
Is the food Flamingoes are fed
Algae and plant life too
Predators this bird has few
Toxicity and industrialisation
Will bring an end to this creation
It's a most spectacular bird
Standing quietly undeterred
Oblivious of what lays ahead
Holding on by a slender pink thread
It makes all sad to think
This endangered species will become extinct.
What does it mean to be Wild?
Wild is defined as not domestic
Wild animals and some plant life
Can be seen as quite majestic
Some animals live in the wild
Which can be a dangerous place
You need to come prepared
For all of the perils that you'll face
And at times, some of us
tend to get a wild hair
and will do crazy things that
you normally wouldn't dare
There are many wild things within our lives,
even our dreams can be wild
but wouldn't life be boring
if you were nothing but mild?
Within your life,
whatever the word wild means
You can choose to follow it
beyond your wildest dreams
4/26/2020
Nature's green dress sprawls lofty upon the earth,
bursting forth with life abiding foliage,
photosynthesizing perpetual birth
that carries a carpet of created knowledge.
Ivy hems climb to the collar of fir trees,
with moss detail, but not to upstage
frisky fern fringes, flower buttons with bees,
roving clover, shade hostas, and sun sown sage.
From fresh fruit to seed to nutrient soil,
plant life receives light sufficient for each day.
They neither spin their garments nor do they toil,
yet the good Lord clothes them in kingly array.*
Adorned within the fragrant, lush greenery
are creeping critters and miniscule beasts
making tasty tears upon the scenery
as they nibble upon ceaseless fresh feasts.
Through new leaf growth and seed germination,
the green dress prevails with flowing strides,
for our Lord gives hope and restoration,
replenishing her green even as He provides.
*Matthew 6:28-29 KJV
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:
And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
12-4-19
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