Bright Autumn colors fly.
Gold, purple, red, and orange leaves float all around.
Fill the sky
Bare branches wave
Boots crunching leaves on the cold ground.
Be brave
Cold night
Will soon be found
white
Bright Autumn colors fly.
Boots crunching leaves on the cold ground.
white
They watched as the tentacles of the atomic industry spread.
A mycelium growth along the coastline.
Ever nearing the land beloved of Nicholson, a uniqueness being devoured.
False hope and promise.
and like the swans on the flooded mine, buried their heads, feeding on the scraps.
As Bank Head and Kirksanton suffered they slobbered, selective blindness to the cruelty.
The weak of the clutch removed from the nest.
It was their job to protect, to highlight the injustice.
But ever on they went dredging the depths, ignoring those whose plates were being stripped clean to feed them.
Profitting on the misery of others.
Those who took their words as true, left helpless.
The community that the poet exalted, different, deceived, and forever divided.
Pioneers betrayed.
Windscale, Calder Hall built by them yet kept at distance to preserve our place.
The poets castle restored on the “Unnecessary suffering”
Norman turns.
The shame.
In this day and age when every commercial slanders someone, it's a turn-off
Autumn leaves an aftertaste that kisses cold.
Then transfuses startled green veins with gold.
A shivering whisper, slips through oak and elm.
As faded yellow disciples tumble from their realm.
As it hums through wheat; the heavy heads bend low.
To ripen while the last warm amber winds still blow.
A long-drawn-out sigh, draws summer from its reign,
Gold and red leaves tumbling down to an empty lane.
Thin mist curls upwards from the cooling ground,
Cold breath slips down, through cracks, without a sound.
Gasps rattle shutters, and worry the tiles and doors.
Sends dry leaves scurrying like mice around the floors.
Autumn breathes on apples till their red cheeks glow,
Then thumps them down one by one onto the ground below.
It finds the restless geese beneath the cloud.
And beckons them south, to join the gathering crowd.
At dusk its voice turns hoarse, as darkness grows.
Growing rasping and raw, with winter up its nose.
Then Autumn, now breathless, loosens one last leaf.
It spins to Earth, collapsing, in gold-flared relief.
History returns
wearing its familiar scars—
time turns on itself
old wounds remember their names
locking onto now again.
Sky becomes a page
written over by old wounds
inked in ash and blight—
each generation writes on
what the last could not erase.
If time turns, will scars
stain the sky with red scratches?
tainting what comes next—
or will stars recall their place
when we forget who they were.
Life takes twists and turns
The unexpected harshness burns
There's elevation of healing and happiness
All the things there are to witness
A heart that rises and then falls
A mind that can shut down with walls
Events may not turn out as seemed
There are unusual things to be redeemed
It's truly the simple things to try in a day
To see, to do and to find your way
When the tears fall and move like rivers
and fears come about bringing shivers,
There is comfort in knowing things always change
In small ways, big ways, to rearrange
There is no complete fix and cure
from certain things that we may endure
Everyone has their own story
and everyone deserves eventual glory
As the moments arrive and pass by,
Remember to grasp them to evolve
- Just try -
Heidi Sands
8/9/26
(C)opyright
I wasn't ready to fall in love
didn't have the time
something inside turned on me
it sold me down the line
wasn't going to fall for love
I couldn't take the chance
my feelings got the better of me
and sold me on romance
didn't want to deal with love
it wasn't in the cards
emotions took a hold of my reins
they sold me to the stars
because my heart turns traitor
when you're around
my mind is made up
but my heart lets me down
and like a Trojan horse
inside the citadel
my heart opened up to you
and I fell
WAS CINDERELLA
RUINED BY THE BIG FELLA
ENDS UP JUST SMELLA
As tarnish is thrown
I scrape it off
Till skin turns red
And blood pours over
As death circles the air
I’m the only one that knows
Who has passed
As soul corrupts
I was the only keeper
The sole holder
Only witness
Of what was before
As I watch—
self inflicted pain
Turns to undeserved hate
A final resort
To moving past
It’s not fair
I don’t want to be around
I was never supposed to be
I didn’t do this
Nevertheless, always
As the only holder
I will continue to scrape
This is my fight against hateful touch
I watch as it takes the other
I pay respects to what is no longer there
Sometimes as I watch
I’m not sure what was
For better or for worse
I am the only rememberer
Of nervous touch
And forever care
For better or for worse
I am the only rememberer
And that
is far too easy to forget
There are people in this world, who turns off their light,
you see it in their eyes, as they walk in their night.
We all have our own darkness, lingering in the heart,
as we do our best each day, not to give it a part.
Those who have no light, their love has turned to stone,
they say the truth will cut you, slice you to the bone.
Where there is no love, evil, tends to be,
the side we walk the most in, is known of you and me.
One or the other, day by day we live,
what we feed our hearts, is what we truly give.
Learning to fight our shadows, as we walk in the light,
keeps us from walking, in the darkness of our night.
From being overtaken, by the evils, that we can be,
because the darkness in this world, is inside of you and me.
Those who see the truth, keep your light burning bright,
lest we be one of those, who turns off their light
Something shifts in the airscape
Like Lady Guabancex’s angry storm
Then wild winds spin around and dance
Becoming a beautifully chaotic song
Of our vastly ever-changing universe.
Rumple Stein lit a single
flickering candle, casting
long, spooky shadows across
the cold stone walls.
"High upon the jagged cliffs
stands the forgotten castle of
Blackwood," he told the
shivering children.
"Inside its drafty halls roams
Grimtooth, an evil ghoul with
glowing green eyes and
razor- sharp claws."
The wind roared outside,
rattling the windows as if
Grimtooth himself were
trying to break inside.
He glides through the castle
dungeons, searching for
intruders who dare to touch
his cursed silver."
Suddenly, a low, scraping
sound echoed from the
fireplace, making the children
jump in terror.
"If he catches you, Rumple
Stein whispered, leaning
close, "he freezes you into a
solid stone statue!"
He mimicked a frozen face,
his arms locked stiffly in the
air, making the kids gasp
loudly.
"Only the bravest souls can
outsmart his traps and
escape the castle before the
morning sun."
With a sudden POOF, Rumple
Stein blew out the candle and
laughed, "Sleep tight, little statues!"
When her magic turns into tragedy
From the start you're the person I know,
But in the end you're the important person who I let go.
In the memories we made and shared,
And at last you're now gone, though I always cared.
When you lifted my strength and eased my sadness,
Mom, the flowers I brought are now my weakness,
Candlelight flickered like a dying ember in the wind.
Have blown in the wind with pain and regret.
I didn't reach you in time,
But I managed to reach your hand, close to mine.
The only last thing was in the hospital,
the news fell on me like a stone dropped in a still pool—silence followed each echo.
You're out of this world,
But I will never forget your reminder.
Mom, goodbye and I love you,
We will always be together.
Death Valley, When Dust Turns To Light
Oh Valley of Death how I have seen you come to life
from Mountains of Fire, from Dust to Light
through Passages of No Mans Lands Into Heavenly Doors
from Fields of Nothing to Bounty's where Wild Flowers Galore,
through Hills of Emptiness new Life births Forth
in Pastures of Desert Gold, Five Spots and Gravel Ghosts
where the Dunes of Time in it's Stillness speak of new Kingdoms to come
and the Winds that Rip and Flip the Sands only to Glisten as the Sun,
looking Upwards where Rose Sage and Lupine sing songs So High
where the few Dare to trek and the Stellar Hawks Fly,
and the Snow Capped Mountain Peaks breathe New Hope
and in Due Time, the Phantom Rivers Flow
and where the Sun Crucifies all that is touched
yet through the Cauldron of Flames we attain our Faith and Trust,
to Alchemize Indeed, Death Valley Knows such Creeds
that Nothing is Impossible when one Truly Believes
and so we hold Steadfast when Dusk turns to Night
for in every Promise Land, Dust Turns To Light
with life's struggles I feel more agony and despair as the world turns
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