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John Le Poem
In the bushes, crickets are chirping.
The sun is down in the western sky.
Two birds fly by.
Above the grass, lighting bugs are flashing.
Birds are picking at the ground a lot.
A squirrel is eating an apricot.
A slice of the moon is shining.
The colors of the day are starting to fade.
The green dims in each grass blade.
The hot day ends and it’s time to cool down.
The leaves are still.
Maybe it will.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2014
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John Le Poem
Along the path in the woods,
Red and white flowers stand.
Among decaying wood,
Two leave plants are growing.
On the rotting trunk,
Growing mushrooms appear.
From the rotting hunk,
Wood dust settles near.
Sun shines less bright.
Winds cool the air.
Clouds shade the light.
Rain drops rest there.
Rain falls from the sky.
Plants turn their leaves.
Rain falls from up high.
Flowers lean in the breeze.
Rain and wind go their way.
Sunshine lights the ground.
Among flowers and leaves.
Two leave plants are growing.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2014
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John Le Poem
Christmas Eve Tree
I went out the back door into the yard.
Among the drifts that were getting hard.
The sun just down and it was late.
As I walked out the gate.
I Followed the creek still flowing free.
And came to just the right tree.
I Cut at the tree down low.
Till it toppled on the snow.
Beside the log fire in this room.
I swept the corner with the broom.
Brought in the tree using some might.
Stood it straight in the firelight.
From the attic, put there last year,
I fetched the boxes and sat them near.
Within are decorations of different types.
Angels, stars and snowmen with pipes.
There are lights and globes and tinsel by yards.
And near the corner are some old Christmas cards.
Pictures of skating girls and boys.
And children playing with toys.
The tree is trimmed for tonight.
The wood fire is burning bright.
It’s heat, for the cold night it will be.
It’s light, reflecting off the tree.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2013
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John Le Poem
Village Beneath
From the window of the train.
Past the station with the wreath.
Down the snow covered lane.
The village sits beneath.
Past the shops with snow on roofs.
A horse gallops pulling a sled.
Leaving tracks of horses hoofs.
Beside lamp poles wrapped in red.
In the front of the general store.
A girl sits on a bale.
She walks to the door.
And inside gets he mail.
Below the ringing church bell.
A man drags a green tree.
Turns at the corner well.
To the house where it will be.
Three boys over yond.
Along the slope of the bank.
Slide in silence to the pond.
On a smoothed curved plank.
On the turned over boat.
A dog lays and waits.
While a boy on a coat
Puts on his skates.
The train pulls out of town
Past a Christmas lit pine.
Around the corner and down
Leaving the village behind
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2013
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John Le Poem
In late summer.
They walked along the red brick sidewalk.
The bricks sunk into the ground, long ago.
Leaving grass and red patches, to show.
Branches from the apple tree, hung low.
They picked apples above the sidewalk.
In early fall.
Wildflowers flowered along the way.
Blooms were bright purple, red, and blue.
Cows in the pasture and new grass grew.
Leaves from tall trees past them, blew.
They collected leaves while going the way.
In cold winter.
They walked the car track, making the path.
Snow came to rest on tree limbs, now bare
The snow covered the leaves, with care.
The white field had no, cows there.
They walked behind snowplow, making the path.
In new spring.
Wildflowers flowered along the road.
Blossoms bloomed with limbs, leaning.
Cows pastured with new grass, greening.
Trees spread new leaves with, meaning.
They walked to school, down the road.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2019
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John Le Poem
It's dark.
The moon is a slice in the sky.
The canoe is gliding in the lake.
The dock is extending in the lake.
The trail is running by the lake.
The trail is curving by the water.
The trail is swerving in the trees.
The woods is full of night sounds.
Walk starts.
Tie canoe to dock.
Walk on dock.
To the shore.
The fish splashes.
Ring of water circle the point.
Enlarging circle smooths.
Returning to lake water.
Walk by shore.
Trail follows water.
Sounds in the woods.
Loud sound of chirping.
Trail moves to woods.
Silence in woods.
Walk on path.
Low sound crickets.
Returns.
Walk on trail.
Chirping stops.
Silence in woods.
No sound shifts.
To the loud sound.
The hoot sound.
Walk to water.
Loud claw sound.
From the trees.
Three birds fly.
Over lake.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2019
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John Le Poem
Mars in the Night
In October of eighty-eight.
Which was a bit late.
I looked at the stars.
The brightest was Mars.
A dog was barking.
The moon was parking.
On the side of the sky.
I never knew why.
The red planets’ orange glow.
Went west with the star flow.
And as the night grew longer.
All the stars shined stronger.
Then the nights slide past.
And the orange didn’t last.
And Mars dimmed its brightness.
To be one in nights delightness.
The book from the stack.
Says its coming back.
So I’ll look and see.
In two thousand and three.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2013
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John Le Poem
In the winter.
The beginning of day.
From under the Earth,
The sun rises.
Makes the shape of light.
At edge of field.
The half ball of the burning sun.
The light sloping to the right.
The light sloping to the left.
Making the shape.
Of the explosion.
Arriving from the sun.
The Earth does not explode.
It is safe for today.
Light shines.
On the frozen snow.
Above the frozen dirt.
In the frozen field.
Thru-out the frozen Earth.
In the day no heat arrives.
The end of day.
The sun sinks.
No light for,
The frozen snow.
No light for,
The frozen dirt.
No light for,
The frozen field.
No light for,
The frozen Earth.
The sun is gone.
It exploded.
The next day.
There is no day.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2019
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John Le Poem
BALING HAY
Rain rain Come on down Come on down
Need to Go to town Go to town
Trac-tor Keeps a bump- ing a-long
Need rain On the hot Day to-day
On rack Be-hind, it's Hard to stand
Toss-ing Hay bales on The back rack
Sky clouds Come-ing in From the west
Rain rain Come-ing down Come-ing down
Let's get Head to town Head to town
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2020
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John Le Poem
Before the sun.
They are there.
On their beach.
The sleepers sleep, on their sand.
Laying in the night,
By the water.
The surfers sit, on their boards.
Looking out to sea,
For the wave.
The fishers wait, on their pier.
Watching the lines,
For the catch.
The sun rises.
The outsiders arrive.
The shops open.
The intruders arrive.
Cars fill the street.
The sleepers, surfers, fishers vanish.
The sun sets.
During the night,
Before the sun.
They return to their beach.
Copyright © John Le | Year Posted 2019
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