Nature Quintain (Sicilian) Poems

Orange mid-October freckles blemish the trees,
while Jack Frost etches abstracts on cold window panes.
And cinnamon-colored leaves fall with each brisk breeze
as Winter subtly approaches, and...

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Sweet Quintain, sing to me
of poetry and skies of azure blue;
of sea gulls flying free;
of dawn and morning’s dew
and sunshine as it falls with splendor...

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I’ll hang out here and hope to see
My hungry heart filled to the brim
With one of these little fish, my plea
Is that I’m watching my...

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Climbing cotton cloud floats slowly away, 
across the sapphire of end-summer sky. 
Crooning birds bathe in the glint of blue bay, 
in twilight gleam to...

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To touch a leaf upon a tree and watch it shiver with delight 
and when the sun comes out to play to watch it swing...

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Thin petals shine like rubies on a radiant plain,
solar flares are congregated in votive candles. 
Vowed to gleam, regardless of the morning rain, 
ambiguity was minimized by...

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The sage is bleeding red all over the plain
Like autumn has stabbed it with a sharp sword,
And left it wounded with open bloody stain
To await...

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Today I really feel it; I feel it in the air,
and even though I still can feel sun’s glow,
the breeze is blowing cooler through my...

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Reflections of Change

Reflections of the season’s change
as cast upon a languid lake
that signals weather’s rearrange,
and leaves a future quite opaque,
are but a sign of warmth’s...

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The wisps of the climbing clouds float slowly away, 
brushing the azure of the end-summer’s ashen sky. 
The returning birds bathe in the glint of...

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A nip in the air portends the coming days
When summer wanes and autumn returns,
All nature prepares in many diverse ways
Flora and fauna nurturing various concerns,
Even...

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I hear a child bemoan in dreams, reclaiming dreams,
His dreams he dreams alone of flying with songbirds,  
Picking and chewing, oozing juicy fruits in...

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Through a lavender meadow he’ll run,
the white, black and brown spotted mule.
Hooves raise dust clouds under golden sun,
beckoning tomorrow’s fresh morning air, cool.
His eyes are...

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I love Canada for her wintry show,
the red-breasted robins in trees;
and fresh fallen white in a wild meadow,
forests caressed by a cold breeze;
serene ice rivers...

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Gossamer wings atop currents of air
are perfect canvases for Nature's art;
No finer paintings exist anywhere.
I wish I could pause time within my heart,
and freeze-frame the...

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