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Derek Riemer Poem
The bitter sweet autumn,
Bitter sweet autumn;
During the month of great pride;
In A week of enjoyment,
But the summer did end at last.
End of summer, end of summer, times shall change,
The day of change came,
A sad day;
sad day, sad day, depressingly sad day,
a harsh reality,
A reality of sadness and sorrow;
An unknown surprise.
A surprise, a surprise, a nasty surprise;
But on the other side,
Oh on the other side,
There was a spark of sweetness,
So Complex and so fine;
This spark of great wisdom,
It showed itself to all;
Oh spark of great wisdom, spark so majestic;
For all who did see it,
And for all who did not;
This spark of great wisdom,
It made itself shine.
It shined, it Shined, it fluorescently shine,
Over all the rest;
That sad little blip,
Oh how it was gone.
It was gone for good, and so was the summer,
It never came back.
The past, the past, that beautiful past,
It was gone for good;
And never came back.
Copyright © Derek Riemer | Year Posted 2015
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Details |
Derek Riemer Poem
Touching time, towering, vast
Time stands high in grand relief.
Layered stories trace the past,
Etched in stone, stark and brief
As I wander through a layered cake of time.
Guarding the desert, towers of stone,
Stand watch from a tilted throne;
Cracks run deep, through petroglyph grand,
Relics left by human hand.
sentinels of the desert
Watch me wander this layered cake of time.
Waves once crashed,
Rivers laid silty beds;
After slumber beneath ocean’s sweep,
The desert claimed this fractured keep.
Long ago,
Reptiles, rulers of this land,
Wandered a layered cake of time.
Roaring creek, through flat and canyon,
Sings a chant of antiquity;
Carving deep through time’s dominion,
Crushing mountains relentlessly.
Through stone and sand, my eternal companion,
Etches a scroll through this layered cake of time.
As I wander, hushed by thunder,
Through this layered cake of time;
My thoughts float through the folded strata,
Past cliffs rich of layered verse.
Each step unveils a buried story,
As the land slopes down and wide;
The layers—once rivers in glory—
Lie rust-red, a frozen tide,
Broken, tilted, worn, and wandered,
Yet strong enough to birth the waves
brought by the Relentless beating of time.
These rocks; made of sand and gravel,
Relics of mountains long gone by—
Cemented fragments shaped by time and tumble,
Cradle roots where lizards thrive;
Their fears and struggles speak of life so momentary,
in this layered cake of time.
From this fan of fractured ages,
Roots descend, and grasses climb.
Life reclaims what once lay buried—
Brief green embers bloom and die,
Held forever, alive so momentarily,
In this layered cake of time.
Copyright © Derek Riemer | Year Posted 2025
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