Snow

February 23, 2023February 23, 2023

February’s Weariness of Winter

The snow is relentless while the wind plays

a relentless tug of war amongst the pine boughs

and the lichen still weighs heavy on the naked

branches of a Winter tree sleeping soundly

for no one is waking, no colors calling time out

in the midst of gray, overcast skies devoid of blue

there is no music from the chorus of songbirds

no not even the noisy caws of blackbirds annoy

there is no restlessness except in one’s heart

where no golden hued rays of sun penetrate

only whispers of sullen notes of music not played

the darkest of which are sly demons before dawn

Image is My Photo

February 19, 2021February 19, 2021

Snow Abates & Winter Remains

The snow is nearly gone now in the aftermath
of the effects of storms in a culmination
of microscopic snow flakes each unique
in their beauty as Nature’s creation
that left a deep blanket of white

leaving once white snow dirty, colored gray
after cleaning the air we breathe, soaking
up dirt particles from the landscape
of houses, cars, fences

even farm animals tidied up in the washing
but the air smells cleaner in the sharply
intense cold that remains a brisk reminder
Winter has not quite gone through an open door
leaving an entrance for Spring’s arrival

The Photo Below Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

February 15, 2021February 15, 2021

Snow White in February

The Winter storm has abated
leaving behind feet of snow in places
rain falling now like bits of ice
not penetrating enough to cause
much needed melt

yet the tiny nuthatches and sparrows
are not minding as they leave
tiny footprints across snowy white
landscape

where some blades of green grass show
left from snow shovels pushed forward
to leave room for small canines
who might disappear from view

yet melt increases in equal measure
with the depth of snow left deep
flood watch will soon ensue
whilst rivers rise as Nature’s
gateway to the sea

Photo Below Taken by Myself

February 10, 2021February 10, 2021

The Tenacious Nuthatch

A Winter storm approaches closer each day
signaling with freezing temperatures
as ground hardens impenetrable
until frost appears with daybreak

covering roofs, cars, asphalt paved roads
while the sun causes it to sparkle
like millions of microscopic jewels
settling on all of Nature’s surfaces

there comes the squeaky notes of tiny
nuthatches hidden amongst branches bare
of leaves, perfectly still not moving
feathers fluffed in staying warm

the thought enters my mind I wonder
where will they shelter as the snow
begins to fall but I know as soon
as the melt comes as if by magic
they will return

Photo Taken From Public Domain Photos Created As Art

February 14, 2019

The Alchemy of Nature

Moisture quickly as it was transformed
into ice crystals gathering together
into vast colonies of snowy white

now slowly melts with less vigor
to alchemize magically resembling
larger pieces of rock salt jewels
piled atop the rust of brown leaves
the green of spiky grass

too soon for evergreens prophesy
when pine cones erupt in wonder
opening layer upon layer bristling
with anticipatory jubilation

will release tiny seeds drifting
down spinning, twirling, settling
upon reaching moist beds of earth

to become like enchanted minions
tiny treasures for mother earth
transfiguring into giants
forest armies of green

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

Evergreen Cones

February 5, 2019

White Outside My Window

White outside my window
speaks of winter not yet done
of Jack frost peering
through curtained panes
as I peer back alone

a snow as blinding a sunny day
drifts ’round the curtains
of my bedroom dark
a light to give
the shadows life
in stillness
of the night

as teetering on the periphery
Spring flowers are in bud
hidden beneath the clouds
in pale of stillness
they doth pose
in silent breath

within the white
outside my window

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

Outside Window

June 26, 2017

The Star Second To The Right

In a time primordial when first life began
unimaginative of the harsh realities of wars
when sunrises and sunsets were ethereal
she can only imagine stepping into dreams
of discovering an unblemished world of those
dreams made of translucent skies so that
much like Peter all she has to do is to go
to the star second to the right and straight
on till morning or perhaps like Alice she
should eat but a small bit of cake to become
just the right size to enter the garden
there upon discovering a different world
for in seeing forever is the powerful force
where oceans teeming with life are no longer
a graveyard of war ships but only coral reefs
a delightful dance of colors and creatures
and where gardens floral are wondrous delights
for children playing for hate is not a word
so cannot invade her dreams that will always
be pristine as newly fallen snow in Winter
with skies so clear she can revel to see them all
from anywhere to blissfully fly to the star second
to the right and straight on till morning

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday prompt. You can read more of other poet’s responses at https://jamiededes.com/2017/06/21/the-hawk-has-flown-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue File and digitized by myself.

June 5, 2017September 2, 2017

The Season of Becoming

Is this the Winter of her discontent as with
Shakespeare the world around might seem one
that is indifferent to her sadness that age
has besieged her but no it is not so harsh
as the icy cold winds and snow harboring
a breath that will not seek to warm her skin

for it has become like the Season of Summer
where the warming rays of the sun stretches wide
to cover the new growth from Spring that offers
new bright green leaves that will be transformed
into variations of darker greens providing shade
to all of nature’s life beneath boughs of trees

who watch as life is born from tiny tadpoles
becoming frogs to the larvae of dragonflies to
a multitude of birds peering from the safety of eggs
to all beginning a journey of grand proportions
where Fall will see a quiet settling in to harvest
and rest amidst the beauty of all that has become

for stepping into the Winter of her life she now sees
her discontent not as a sadness but as one of observing
all that has come before, all that has become who she is
for it is another beginning and one of transformations
that will show her all the brilliance of her colors
enabling doors to naught hidden as opening to reveal

This is in response to Jamie Dedes’s Wednesday writing prompt. Please read more of the other poets’ replies at https://jamiededes.com/2017/05/31/in-time-displaced-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue File and digitized by myself.

Tulips in Snow

February 8, 2017September 2, 2017

Visages of Winter*

The visages of winter are still
creeping tenaciously
rising and raging
from wherever the cold
chills us to the bone

promises of warmer weather
tried to intercede
as the heather blooms
showing lavender color

but perhaps with hasty budding
the trees quietly trespassed
longing for leafy foliage
for warmth of boughs

for overnight in the darkness
the snow began falling
blanketing in white a
glistening panorama

winter refusing to leave softly
even in the softness of white
seemed to be shouting loudly
i won’t leave without
a fight

Photo Taken by my daughter in Puyallup, Washingon and digitized by myself. This was one of the harder hit during this late Winter storm.

snow-late

January 25, 2017September 2, 2017

Bitter Salt

The air of life of which I breathe
comes down upon me
as soft green leaves

to beckon me my words my gift
to settle my soul bereft
as bitter salt
doth sift

through each pore each cell
within my being
crying out why
why I see

she was born perfect as
the newest of snow

she was born of my self
born of my soul

but he sought her out one day
came down upon her
has kept her nay

has kept her within each
labored breath
has made of her short life
a life long test

she endures each painful trial
he passes her through
smiling of it all
as flowers do

there is always tomorrow
a new better day
though she knows his eyes
discovers his ways

my words tell me what I should know
she was born perfect
as the purest snow

she was born of my self
born of my soul

though why he chose her
I will never know

File Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

purest-snow

My oldest daughter was diagnosed at the age of 23yrs with Lupus, an autoimmune disorder for which there is no cure. It took ten years to diagnose and now at the young age of forty she has once again to overcome more new diagnoses of which, all but one, are more than likely due to her Lupus. Lupus is the Latin word for wolf, which was given for a name to this disease, due to some of the ways in which it presents itself when on the skin. I have come to think of this disease as one of predator and one which my daughter has spent a lifetime in battle with. She is strong, positive and always optimistic about each day. One of the angels I always say that walks among us.