Its wild and woolly outside tonight
The wind is blowing a mighty gale
The trees are loudly whispering sweet nothings
Or whistling mournful tales
The rain is indecisive
Spasmodic in small bursts
The thunder lazy and quietly rumbling
No desire or energy to exert
In the beginning, so long ago
When the world was young, yet to grow
There stood the first men, brave and strong
With hearts fierce, and wills unyielding long
Their skin was roughened by the sun
Their hair, wild and woolly, undone
They walked the earth, unafraid and free
Living each day, wild and full of glee
The first men roamed the land without control
Far from the structures and comforts of the modern soul
Hunting and gathering, they made their way
Living in pure, simple ways
They slept under the stars, on the ground
Ate what they found, with no limits bound
The earth was their home, and they knew it well
Surviving with skill, no one could compel
Their spirits were strong, and their hearts pure
They lived each day, unsure of what would occur
For the first men, life was a grand adventure
Their stories and legends, still told with pleasure
Though time has passed and the world has changed
The first men's legacy forever remains
They were the pioneers, who paved the way
For us to live and thrive, each and every day.
HOW MUCH MORE
The ocean skies strike again
bathing the ground all day,
slithery and of polka leaves
crashed by wild and woolly,
wailing Western winds... Break!
Even the trees are trembling,
Rattling in silence scream
as their branchlets slowly fall.
The tweedles I heard are protests
as birds rush! Rush for shelter!
How much more is the man,
I saw in the street?
____________________________________
By: Olive Eloisa Guillermo -Fraser
December 30, 2015 @3:40 pm
tending the garden is a lot like cultivating the mind
maintaining balance, harmony and symbiosis
is essential for both flora and fauna
providing proper PH for the soil,
fertilizing and feeding each plant
with the right kind of food
mindful irrigation, going with the flow
plenty of bustling sunshine
as well as periods of deep shade and contemplation
and lets not forget those blessed weeds
only takes a good spring rain
to turn your botanical oasis into a
wild and woolly patch of snarling jungle animals
chattering monkeys swinging from
rampant running vines
tenacious elephants stomping over
shrinking african violets
hungry, growling lions stalking the marigolds
take a deep breath, get centered try not to curse them
after all, it has been said that one man's weed
is another man's flower
gently I tug the miscreant roots
and regain my composure
realizing, they too, have a place in the Cosmic
scheme of things
the brass Buddha smiling between
the hawaiian plumeria and ruffled hot pink hibiscus
winks at me
as I evenly, attentively, consciously align and establish
stepping stones on the Middle path
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