Walking down a lane, strewn with withered leaves,
I watch as they twirl and pirouette in Autumn's chill wind
leading them in a rhythmic dance that it skillfully weaves
as they plummet, leaving branches naked and chagrinned.
There's a true spark of vigor in the breeze of Autumn's call.
One I am quite happy to answer in poetic verses composed
about a family trip to the pumpkin patch, amid hues of Fall
when Nature's boldest color palette is so vibrantly exposed.
It's time for gathering together, and offer words of thanks
for the bountiful food and the beauty of a harvest moon,
and children Trick-or-Treating; scary Halloween pranks.
There's a crispness in the air and firewood to be hewn.
I get so excited when my favorite season approaches
and foliage gloriously blazes in shades of rust and gold.
Too quickly the coldest season of the year encroaches.
I'm not enamored by Winter when shivering with cold.
From this lane, I watch geese flying to a warmer clime,
their vee formation clear to see as to the South they go.
But before Winter takes command there's enough time
to enjoy these golden days of Fall, before the first snow.
Her purr softer than the shadowed cloud
Conceals a message both strong and loud
And should you be one unaware
‘Tis that purr can catch you there
Then the claws, sheathed in fur
Can come darting forth, to belay that purr
And what you thought so genteel
May seal your fate with an ordeal
Of words selected carefully
To bring you to reality:
Tis’ not YOUR world on which she lives
And she cares not for your missives
You may observe, perhaps caress,
But it’s doubtful that you’ll possess
The Cat who purrs so skillfully,
But not JUST for you: She’s here for - - - WE.
Respect her words; respect her skill
Or your Life’s Journey may be all … uphill.
Wind chimes spinning inside a tornado,
their gentle jingle splits apart my tears.
Making a wasteland of all of my fears,
nothing but smiles remain when I let go.
Dealing hesitation a swift deathblow,
alters forever how the fervor veers.
Wind chimes spinning
skillfully unravel what is nouveau.
Dead weight disintegrates and disappears
rejuvenating you as thick fog clears.
This intake of cloying breath will echo
wind chimes spinning.
The hum of nature amid the trees
echoes quietly in gentle breeze,
swaying the branches as falling leaves
skim happily over rippled seas.
I would call this paradise on earth,
where peace and tranquility are worth
all the riches and buckets of gold,
more than two hands and both arms could hold.
The papery bark provides a home,
for tiny creatures to work and roam,
using their skills to shelter from rain,
replenishing soils, time and again.
Distant wolves howl out aloud,
a graceful hawk glides past a fleecy cloud,
as sun's reflections shimmer and dance,
and glowing eyes skillfully glance
across the waters, blue as the skies,
while drifting fish are caught by surprise;
and the hum of nature fills the air,
peace and serenity are everywhere.
Paradise on earth, I call this place
surrounded by nature, face to face.
There's so much beauty here to be found,
if we open eyes and look around.
The heaven in her mind
Has no boundaries or separation
No darkness
No edges
No limit
And absolutely no evil.
The heaven in her mind
Shines like sun through a cloud
Luminous white
Melodious
And perfecly soft.
She reaches down to me
And she guides me
Gently
Skillfully
With musical fingers
Drawing light to shoot to her from my heart.
The heaven in her mind
Shines softly and supernaturally
And tells me to listen
Submerge myself
To quiet my mind
And to love her.
And I kneel before her
And shroud my head in heaven
And merge with her soul.
She takes me to heaven.
I've been to heaven today.
No beginning no end
Declared a prophet of men
From womb to birth
Every individual came to Earth
...unless
The connections set
The program enacted
To many come to TRUTH
Memories redacted
...questions
Evidence of ancient people
Churches topped with sainted steeple
Hints of plagiarism in books
Ideas taken with golden hooks
...twist
Exciting information presented
To invite curious exploration
Careful to skillfully conceal
To prevent deep investigation
...story
Thinking minds know...
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-18-2026
Sitting on a wooden bench
Realizing I was the ink in someone's pen
I declared with full authority
I will not be narrative ever again
I took my wayward feet
And began to forge my own path
Away from woulda, coulda, shoulda
To tackle all I was left in my lack
Everytime I spoke forth desire
Voice carried on jealous waves
Silencing me with granted wishes
For others digging my graves
Many times I ventured to build
Gave my vision to those with provision
They could have given support
Instead they ran with mighty sword to create division
Finally someone noticed my gift
I could connect with deep love and insight
They labeled me as mentally unstable
As they skillfully tried to extinguish my light
I found living as a human, tedious
Not worth the sufferings required to relate
I became a hermit in my home
Acknowledging and accepting fear to guard against hate
Today, LOVE has arrived at my door
Inviting me to take His hand and step away
A new journey of adventure awaits
As we balance our essence in the joy of being, every day
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-17-2026
uphill climb,
rigorously relentless
with ambling ambitions
and schematic stratagem,
blueprinted blatantly
on the blank
parchment of marooned mind,
sketched skillfully
with chameleon color shift,
transiently transfixed.
gripping gravity
of transcendental time
of the loaded past
pulls back incessantly
the strings of present,
fastening in retrospect
the incoherent network
of faltering footsteps
at the refurbished root
of existential essence.
intent inertia
of living force
creates proactive
causal momentum
of tumultuous time configured,
permeates the perception
of the fourth dimension.
construed continuum
of elusive eternity
strives to unveil ineffectually
the shrouded acuity
at the summit of actuality,
emotionally evasive,
abortive climb connotes
futile foray
to somewhere intangible.
Seed
Soft rain
Gists dig down
Stem cracks the dirt
Naive leaves catch light
Reach up to that blue sky
Budding in the summer sun
Fine bud reeling in the faint wind
Blossoms dropping softly to the earth
Autumn ice is riding the leaves brown
Pigments fading in the cold wind
Brittle stem snaps skillfully
Seeds falling on the soil
Sleep under the snow
Waiting for some
Long snowfall
Telltale
Rest
The last English king to die in battle
He fought to regain his crown and grandeur.
A 'bottled spider' with a mere rattle,
He's a 'hellhound' with no inner valour.
He couldn't skillfully use the weapons.
He was an alien to the art of war.
He had murdered his brother's guileless sons.
The label 'villainous hunchback' he bore.
Ambition, like a crown, was at its peak.
Deep down, he's a masterpiece of deceit.
What else, except lies, could he ever speak?
With acts of goodness, he could not compete.
Though he's one of Time's finest creations,
Hasn't he shaken all moral foundations?
A geisha’s green grin is not a silky sin
She floats fuchsia hopes of elegance
Somehow she seems more of romance
Better than me with a wealthiest chance
Of getting a sponsor conquer she will
Woo his loyalty inspire him with thrill
Pouring her heart like a glass of saki
Shooting her shot like a pro in hockey
Yet skillfully so not at all a threat
His attention she holds as she is best
At conversation and celebration an art
Perhaps he too will spill his red heart
Buried with haste so skillfully,
they had to have done this before.
Once found there would be no more
gems forgotten in the red sea.
Left right where nobody would be
except all those prone to explore.
Buried with haste
accented by shoreline debris.
Riches stay alive with folklore,
fairy tales and sparkles galore.
Two steps apart from the palm tree,
buried with haste.
As I gaze upward at the sky so blue,
I hope you’re resting well,
So that you can feel renewed.
The orange sky presents an extraordinary hue
When the snow blankets the mountainside,
And I wish for that mountain to rest peacefully.
You have an incredibly open heart,
A fine citizen and a romantic hero,
As the snow sparkles among the trees, it creates a work of art.
Snowballs are hurled from my dreams,
Quickly landing in the heart of nature and wildlife
In this unpredictable world.
Free-flying thoughts take their flight
From your creative mind,
Venturing into the beauty of nature and the comfort of the fireside.
Use your hands and eyes to solve problems;
Your talent has often been on display,
Imbuing various shades of color
To convey such meaningful news.
Naturally, I think of you
And all that you do,
High up on the mountainside where you tread so skillfully.
Spring becomes tender
Poetically laughs and cries
with the first fruits of arrival
with the finality of departure...
Your body, with pleasure
like a flower opens into petals
when I skillfully touch you...
This simple life of ours,
in grandeur, does indeed blossom,
when we weave ourselves in nobility...
To truly love is:
to provide attentive ears,
to offer obliging arms...!
Life always becomes art,
canvas, palette, action...
in the mystery of creation!
Wine can be:
oily, full-bodied, fruity...
sine qua non; good grape, good wine!
In the unspoken stanzas of glance,
A language of love is skillfully enhanced.
Flushed cheeks , shy eyes ,
Glimmering like starry night skies.
The melody of footsteps, a syncronized pace,
A duet of devotion in every gaze.
Fingers touch, cheeks glow red,
Whispered secrets in the heart's closest thread.
The eyes deep dialect, a secret code,
Conveys the heart's deepest abode.
The soft curves of a comforting embrace,
A harbor of solace, calm and safe.
In the gentle tilt of head , a sweet surprise,
In the curve of neck , an invitation lies.
Eyes unite, love's passion burns bright,
Smile glows warm, heart feels just right.
With eyes that lock and hearts that beat,
Our actions whisper secrets sweet.
In every gesture, love is key,
A language universal, for you and me.
~Muskaan
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