Three Seasons

(The image is one of my favorite places back home.)


Alas! The perch is empty now
The twitter has long gone
Stooping below the chastened brow
A creaky, withered, frozen rone.
Died, has the, jay and sparrow’s row?
Epithet: a brooding splintered stone.

Ah…the pompous springtide glee
Lads and lasses’ frolics on the sward.
They knot and knot…a gluttonous spree
Tête-à-tête! Sympathy begs the wasted lard.
Who shall care for the bauble vee?
Epithet: wisdom’s diadem of an ancient bard.

O The Carpet! Of twigs and twines
The whistle of the wind, high and proud.
Aloof stands golden forest lines
Dead and silent, though glittering loud.
How long for a chirp? O Time! O Time!
Epithet: Shadows fallen, hunched and bowed.

Mystic Dawn

All credit for the photgraph goes to aspen (http://barbedwireandroses.blogspot.com/) whose pics are a great source of inspiration. Thank you for allowing me to use a pic from your blog.

Waiting awhile for the mystic dawn,
the green pastures wake up with me.
The prairies, the breeze, sing along.
A romance world's too blind to see.
The mountains slowly then unveil
all their secrets and their sounds.
A yawning rose's fragrance I steal
and innocence with which it is bound.
Clouds cloud the sky so often
that they cloud my soul with what they say.
And as the moon slowly begins to soften
wondering it will...or may?
I see the sun arrested by the dew.
A thousands colors that linger on.
Words those are lost amid morning’s hue.
A soul that softly hums along.