I reach the wooded edge
in the held breath before sunrise,
October coolness at my back.
I walk eastward, lifting my gaze
expecting blue light~
but dawn arrives golden and warm,
a quiet mercy on my chilled skin.
The wind carries earth, water, and pine.
Then a rustle. I stop. I listen.
My ancestors walk behind me.
“Be still,” they whisper.
“You are the result of the love of thousands before you.”
Autumn colors fall into the somber lake.
Ribbons and stripes of red, orange and green.
Trees claustrophobic, surround wee house.
Kodachrome toppling into wooded waters.
House of mirth, blending frame and shutters.
Luminous white and gray in mid-lake flutters.
Lovely and serene, psychedelic hues.
Lone couple on outside swing and sighing.
The surround effect of burnt leaves and pines,
Cozy in a tartan blanket and quiet chat.
House of mirth, blending frame and shutters.
Luminous white and gray in mid-lake flutters.
The scent of pine mixed with autumnal mix.
A lift of spirits, not unlike unfolding flowers.
The creak of chains binds the lovers' hearts.
Memories abound and link with the present.
House of mirth, blending frame and shutters.
Luminous white and gray in mid-lake flutters.
I stand at the wooded edge
where goldenrod bows with the wind's wave
its yellow heads nodding in agreement.
A chickadee perches
its heart a tiny drum of joy
echoing the forest's pulse.
In this moment a smile radiates—
not mine but the earth's—
a ripple spreading
a gentle caress touching all it meets.
A maple leaf lets go
red-gold luminous
spinning down in a silent dance
a quiet farewell to summer's warmth.
I catch it as a gift.
How strange, this silk
between bird, leaf, and human
this quiet belonging that holds
as frost approaches.
What is this feeling
but love's quiet whisper?
This moment
but life itself, distilled
to its essence?
And now, having tasted
this wild sweetness
how will you carry
your one precious life?
While the fields and plains
Prepare for floods
The cold of fall and
Shortened days
I employ my mind to wintery
things
Preparation of a post
autumn gloom
A drizzle of truffle oil
upon the pheasants
enough to cause a
tease
Coupled up with
someone I love
To inspire a sweet
Romance
While the fields and plains
Prepare for floods
The cold of fall and
Shortened days
I employ my mind to wintery
things
Preparation of a post
autumn gloom
A drizzle of truffle oil
upon the pheasants
enough to cause a
tease
Coupled up with
someone I love
To inspire a sweet
Romance
While the fields and plains
Prepare for floods
The cold of fall and
Shortened days
I employ my mind to wintery
things
Preparation of a post
autumn gloom
A drizzle of truffle oil
upon the pheasants
enough to cause a
tease
Coupled up with
someone I love
To inspire a sweet
Romance
There are times when the spirit just needs a decent rest;
the grinding of a city’s wheel upon the soul, leaves
dusty debris in its wake. Peace of mind seems elusive
at that point. I seek the solace that is nature.
nature has her way
of soothing the soul
serenity trails
Just one tranquil hike along the lakeshore, listening to the
birds upon the boughs, the trickle of traveling waters and
harmonic bliss has reduced the blare of horns to sweet music.
a croaking frog
sits by the lake
wildflowers
Night sounds sing me to sleep beneath crystalline stars;
a shimmering sky overhead plays out its night scenes across the
stage of the dreamtime. Nature’s children are safe in their slumber; nocturnal ramblings build their memories.
oak and ash
are safe havens
hardwood homes
Peace is every single step when you are in harmony with Gaia. Down that wooded path lay the passionate play of Elysian existence. I come here to find me.
3-11-2020
STRAND CHOICE C,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Seeking Out Nature's Pristine Wooded Views
In forested glen, deep serenity rests
take your aching soul there for hours to hide-
Away from this hectic world's many tests,
Solitude, medicine for this world's ride.
Seeking out Nature's pristine wooded views
one may find treasure for a wounded heart.
Life is so hard, so best you dare to choose
a hidden spot to recharge and restart.
Remain quiet, listen as the woods speak;
as its critters may scurry to and fro.
Look behind this curtain, taking that peek,
in awe you will see a majestic show!
Nature's wonders, man has yet to see all.
To free your spirit, just answer its call.
Robert J. Lindley, 2-06-2016
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 105
A Paradise Of Beautiful Wooded Seas
In that certain wilderness -There abides
An unyielding force to thwart pain.
Where misery fails and comfort resides
And life flourishes in Nature's gain!
Invisible hand- Firmly holds the keys
And serenity there always prevails.
A paradise of beautiful wooded seas
Where moves Time and Age, slow as snails!
Softly the gentle hours float- Into Sky
As furry critters scurry all about.
Man invades and sometimes even asks why
"Are we made God"- with a futile shout!
Natures splendors dare to tell a tale.
About earth and sky- Heaven and Hell.
R.J. Lindley
July 9TH, 1978
Note- Sonnet from ages ago.
Time warps
through wooded paths
where dulcet melodies
await, nature's blissful song brings
beauty
Nestled deep in the tawny, drab woodland
Sedate cottage neither haughty nor grand
Sparse hovel of unassuming, itinerant brigand
Martial decor of detached highwayman starkly bland
The etched path sculpted by intemperate hand
No manicured garden on the scrubby strand
Briers and brambles errant straggler must withstand
Thatched clapboards stable his stallion firebrand
Unruly swine garnish acorns from scraggly wasteland
Buried deep in his cellar pilfered contraband
Per chance drifter did the terrain assay
And chose that toilsome, forsaken way
A spartan welcome hauteur did convey
No lodgings, accoutrements could sway
If for grace, mercy they did pray
Only a cold shoulder he did relay
If they tested his temperance and sued for trite parley
He reconnoitered their belongings through wordplay
If no net value they were beguiled to betray
Their worthless lives he did indignantly slay
I walked through the sunshine
into a wooded bog
where lily pads are home to frogs
where the night sky shines
on the lake below
where the winter breeze blows
over a fresh new snow
I walked down the path
where no one could find me
beyond the hidden branches
sits a log where I'm hiding
peacefully I've chosen this spot
because this log has been mine for years
all the time I walk through the forrest
I always end up here
this log is nothing special
but special it is to me
for it looks over the lake
in which I knew since three
its been there when I was sad,
and made me happy again
and when I'm on this log
there's nothing better than that
a peaceful place in the forrest
away from bustles of the day
is the best spot for someone like me
to wash her worries away.
The sun-bleached exoskeletons
of old dead trees stand like sentries
along the towpath riverfront
exfoliated and gangling.
In a former age they stood tall,
grandiose to all passerby’s
but they too are dead to recall
their once impressive colossi.
Eventually these remains
will meet their final destinies:
to fall-never to rise again-
among forgotten progenies;
yet many springs have passed since then
each sprouted trees, time and again.
Sun is shining
Birds are singing
Peace in my heart
that nature's bringing.
Life's too fast
many places to be
I want to slow down
and take time to see.
Just what I've missed
rushing here and there
take time to listen
and just breathe the air.
There is a gift
in a wooded trail
God will meet you
and put wind in your sail.
So take the time
to walk with Him
He wants to talk
if you'll let Him in.
This wooded path
Is neither dark nor light
And it leads me to chaos
Too many people have been hurt here before
And I refuse to sign my name to the list
Still, I travel on, in mixed company
Awaiting our imminent arrival
And now, I have tasted of a succulent fruit for the first time
He would have shared it with me
If my lips had not yet graced its skin
But it’s too late
And we’re already walking home
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