Inside the forestry of his heart I live
inhaling the scent of his deep woods
I could never fill those Timberlands boots
nor explain the thrill that he provides
when he arrives at the grove of my soul
and whispers, "Darling, I love you "
softly cloaked and protected by his pine
I am evergreen in moments like these
Existing in this charming jungle of love
I could never retrace my steps, for
arriving in this place of no return
I feel as suitable as a thriving conifer
Inside this evergreen existence, I just am
breathing in the fragrance of his loyalty
I feel like a woman in love, ...
After a lifetime of bending, to his will
I am the wind that blows on his heart
when I get to him, I just breathe...
foot tracks foot prints in
in the snow boundaries shown
harnesses patterns
~
of trail blazed shoes worn
"Timberlands™" conversions runs
runs atop the ice
~
snow tracks giant feet
steps, -my eyes sees he's fallen
now I see the shape
~
of an angel on
the ground indented shape of
heavenly body
12/8/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
~ As embers cast their seedlings to the tide,
relentless rants of endless acrid winds
attenuate the brittle countryside,
releasing spite, as hopelessness descends.
Scorching plumes infuse a septic, swirling,
noxious residue into the feral
timberlands, unleashing toxic, whirling
clouds of grimace, rendering them sterile.
The Devil's rage holds taut the torrid brush
that strokes the bramble sage with streaks of fire,
salvation chokes upon this lethal blush
as Hell provokes the cinders of its pyre.
The searing wrath leaves silence in its stride
as embers cast their seedlings to the tide.
Contest Host: Mark Toney
Marathon Poetry Contest
Date Written 5-15-22
Grass clutch to the music of dew when spring is near.
When you glide, the breeze brings an impactful smell.
The spring can hold the most sway; it will indeed appear.
Although sunbeams are splendid, the clouds are scant.
Sea waves play tunes, and hued spring blossoms inhale.
God gives us the spring climate as a merciful necklet.
I look up, curious around how the cloud is adept to fly.
Many tangled timberlands and a slew of vines.
Sufficient vigor gasp you to take off with the hawky.
Purple tulips clasp dance to the voice of gold bloom.
Grasp the mysterious downpour vibration on the trees.
The desire for hotter days after a long spell of gloom.
This is a delight that no gem or cash can yield.
When warmth is here, the world is enticing to nibble.
The thawing spring can soar a genuine flavor to the head.
Written June 25, 2021
Writing Prompt - Grasp - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
blazing timberlands
lori huge and large willows
In the wild walks bears
3/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
timberlands blazing
wallows lorry huge and large
bears in the wild walks
3/7/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
displayed on knotty boards of pine
he stares into the fireplace
where glowing embers snap and spit
for him
his teeth ajar in frozen growl
which once chewed into salmon's flesh
and crunched through rabbit's snow-white fur
to bone
a wet black snout sniffed forest scents
now plastered fast with mod-podge glue
brown glassy eyes shine bright but fail
to see
he used to roam the timberlands
and munch on berries in a bush
and sleep away the winter snows
in dens
one spring he bounded happily
where lupins bloomed and robins sang
the hunter aimed his gun for one
clean shot
Thru a series of psychological tests I have been declared a demon
Travellin' thru dimensions fatal weapons leave you bleedin'
Dissecting grey matter doesn't matter in my cathedral
But how can you stand my timberlands in your cerebral
Faces of space probes be scattered thru my mental
Acoustics in my chamber just endanger instrumental
Fundamental rhythms are symbols of paternal power
Get devoured by my infinite skills to disappear
Getting lost in the Holocausts that rage between my ears
Complex like gravity
Tragically and mathematically
I defeat your squadron black magically
Analyze the tangle
As you get my mangled by my triangular rhythms
Systematic rotations of my words cause cataclysms
I played there every once in a while
Air from the Northern valley blowing so inward
Aunt Mimi owned a cottage along the seaside point
it made me write poetry and some melancholy melody there
You could tame the endless beauty of Summer Isle
People would bless and greet you with a tender smile
Flying o'er the vast timberlands
Hundreds of her residence are strongly holding hands
It is a way of life for such a proud and distinquished colony
Reside in this Paradise and your name will be legion