Like an autumn breath of leaves
Dancing
Pouncing
Skittering
In rich earth tones being
Calico Cat
02 Tuesday Jun 2020
Posted cats, Free Verse, Poetry
in02 Tuesday Jun 2020
Posted cats, Free Verse, Poetry
inLike an autumn breath of leaves
Dancing
Pouncing
Skittering
In rich earth tones being
02 Sunday Jun 2019
Posted Free Verse, Poetry, Whimsy
in27 Tuesday Mar 2018
Posted Free Verse, Nature, Poetry, seasons
inTags
Winter’s last gasps
As it tries in vain to stay
Shedding white in spastic throes
Refusing to give up just yet
As it attempts to blanket
All signs of springtime
Knowing
It will fail
Once more
27 Tuesday Mar 2018
Posted Free Verse, Nature, Poetry, seasons
inSo Winter and Spring
they danced up a storm,
Paso Doble that filled up the skies.
With whiteness and rain
and spring-summer tease,
swirls and flourishes to the wind cries.
They couldn’t agree
who should take the lead,
so in waves snow and rain left traces.
First the cold, then warmth
(as they flirted and flounced) –
both thinking to fill up the spaces.
28 Thursday Dec 2017
Posted Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
Tis a ghost of an image that comes to my mind
An almost but not quite visual
Like a partial reflection in a night time pond
Far more like something subliminal
Just a fleeting glimpse, a flash then gone
As I try but cannot quite remember
Even though if I have opened my eyes
It stands solid before me, my muse
27 Monday Feb 2017
Posted age, cats, Free Verse, Poetry, Uncategorized, Whimsy
inCats are like age
They creep up
Unseen
Then suddenly pounce
Leaving marks
08 Sunday Jan 2017
Posted Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
growing up, learning, loneliness, regret, relationships, sorrow
Crystalizing with a lump in my throat
Catching in my breath
As a tear forms in my eye
And a lumping ache in my breast
Missing you already
Still knowing
I had to let you go
I had to let you grow
10 Monday Oct 2016
Posted Free Verse, Poetry, Ponderings
inThese are the men that built the tunnels
The bridges
The highways
These are the men that built the cities
The airports
The cars
These are the men who did the farming
Beside their wives
And their children
When you were born this country was here
Because they’d built it
With their sweat
Sorrows
Joys
These are the men in their advanced years
Some with walkers
Some with wheelchairs
Show them some respect
14 Tuesday Jun 2016
Posted birds, flight, Free Verse, Nature, Poetry, possibilities, potential
inPoised
In stillness
For an instant
Then
Opening
Cutting the air
With slicing feather sounds
As the beating starts
Flight
19 Thursday May 2016
Posted Fantasy, Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
He looked at the oak
Ancient it was
Its girth so broad that if hollow
He could have stood within
His arms stretched out
And not touched it
At first he knew not why it seemed so important to him
Why it had caught his attention
What had made him lose his breath
In a gasp of wonder
But then
A cloud crossed the sun’s path
And in the shadowlight
He saw it
Not it
Her
Seeming frozen in time
Magically grown from the tree surrounding her
Her arms stretched high to become the two main branches
Her legs flowing into the trunk
So her feet were lost in the roots
Her hair leaves and moss
Sage green
Holly green
Mistletoe green
Her face only seeable in the shadowlight
Eyes closed
Sleeping
Dreaming?
Alive?
Or long dead
petrified
He did not know
It unnerved him
How real she looked
As if she were a dryad
Resting
In the day sun
She could not be real
A figment of his imagination
A creation of his mind
That in his youth
Had been fertile grounds for myths and fairytales
She was a beautiful will of the wisp
A piece of his imagination
A gift of beauty given for him to see
So he smiled
Whimsically
And went back to work
He raised his axe
Ready to start the cutting
Sad to lose this incidental beauty
But knowing the tree was not his
Only the job to cut it down was
He braced his legs
Swung back his arms
Started the forward swing
And saw her eyes open
When she looked at him
And screamed
20 Wednesday Jan 2016
Posted Fantasy, Free Verse, Poetry
inAnd he howls
In memory
Of something he can’t quite remember
Yet
Can never forget
The echo filling the sky
In a way no other wolf
Ever could
Achingly
Reachingly
Beseechingly
And
No matter how many wolves sang
Under the light of that oh so full moon
Always
Forever
Painfully
Plaintively
He was lonely
In singularity
Alone
For there were no others like him
Anymore
He sang without harmony
There were none to sing with him
For he was the last
Of the lycanthrope
03 Thursday Sep 2015
Posted Free Verse, Poetry
inTags
being human, courage, epiphany, musician, rejection, saxaphone, street performer, wind in my ear
When I first passed her
Whatever she was playing on her sax
Sounded more discordance than tune
She was not very good
From nerves or lack of skill
Who knows?
Then
Suddenly
I knew
What it was she played
In the Hall of the Mountain King
A piece I’ve always loved
And I remembered
I probably would be playing just as badly
If I was standing where she was
And I can’t even play the sax
It took a lot of guts
So I changed my thinking
Took my change from my wallet
Smiled at her
And dropped change in her hat