Trees

October 15, 2022October 15, 2022

An Oasis And A Memory

A distant not long walk along a winding drive
lined with trees green, lush, colors vibrant
change is carried on the wind as each leaf falls
their singing heard in their rustling unison

awaiting a long sleep, noiseless, resting on ground
now littered with birch, alder, madrone and maple
greeting with a silent sigh a wall of colors colliding
melding with moss now a roof for insects beneath

on an island oasis of tranquility, calm and peace
a refuge shadowing a memory of a desert landscape
devoid of the beauties of vegetation though birds
take flight over both as life is wont in doing

The Image Is My Photo Created As Art

September 23, 2021September 23, 2021

Late Summer Blackberries

Tasty morsels of the nibbling kind
entice the deer on a back country road
as she turns to see me more clearly
I notice she favors one of her legs

but it’s part of living on the edge
of our complex society verging on hers
where jumping o’er recently logged trees
a clear cut leaving a swath of land bare

is the price she pays to enjoy nibbling
on these berries that are lacking of water
as there is naught but dust and no rain
but no matter as she enjoys their being

just close enough for her to enjoy them
as I watch in wonder at her trust in me
to casually pick one than another
before moving back into the foliage
to disappear from my sight

The Photo Taken Is My Own

June 8, 2020June 8, 2020

A Dance of Trees and Bossa Nova

The clouds black in the distance
with patches of blue sky mingled in
as the clouds migrate close overhead

big fat drops of rain are resounding
everywhere they are hitting
with a big plop, a splat, being replaced
with millions more in their place

as I listen to the gentle, smooth refrain
of jazz and bossa nova I watch intently
trees in the distance are seemingly
swaying to and fro, branches lithe
leaves tremble as though listening

when it is the wind of nature’s breath
that propels them in their dancing
gives them the moves of the bossa nova
the rhythm of life as if speaking to me

what a glorious day to just be alive
to absorb your sounds of music playing
as we flutter to the peaceful strains
in synchronous harmony with the wind

The Image Below Is My Photo Created As Art

February 19, 2020February 19, 2020

Iced Sugar Crystals

My studio shown in the early morning sun
as though decorated in tiny sugar crystals

the panes of glass in the windows white
as though painted in a thin sheen of ice

reminding me of another frosted landscape
bristling of crunchy crystal iced patterns

though trees are beginning to show leafy buds
while rhododendron buds look ready to bloom

all signaling that Spring will soon arrive
with a warmth showering landscape with green

Photos Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

December 28, 2019December 28, 2019

A Dance Of Epic Proportions

The fog is heavy as a blanket
& thick enough for warmth
but chilling to the touch

the heaviness of how it lies
upon the landscape
muffles sound

a density that ensconces trees
& enfolds houses

one might believe they can
all but move it aside
with the touch of a hand

but it will not move
not willingly

it will wait below whilst
a brilliant shining orb
burns above &
cannot be seen
nor felt

a dance of epic proportions
goes on outside
my window

who is the real master
or mistress
here

a hidden shift that will
only reveal the answer
by one of the dancers
next moves

but for now as in a game
game of chess
it is a stalemate

the dancers seemingly
frozen in time

This Image Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

June 5, 2019June 5, 2019

Sunset Confection

Sunsets here cut a swath of farraginous pinks
reminding one of silky ribbons in motion
or lengths of stretched pulled taffy
held with invisible hands of the confectioner

who keeps stretching until there is but a thin
sliver of light kissed candy crossing the horizon
in muted tones of fading colors

turning dusky, obscuring the end of the day
where only silhouettes of buildings and trees
remain unmoved like giant sentries watching
with eyes that cannot be seen
but felt in knowing
seeing all

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Created As Art

September 30, 2018

The Color of Elocution

So many introductions
to the season of Fall
from the splashy
vibrantly hued colors

of oranges, golds
yellows and reds

to burnt textures of
browns and bronze

as foliage processes death
into sleeping droughts
of winter nights

where each day temperatures
fade to cool breezes
sending all matter of life
scurrying
fluttering
down

atop objects stationary or
those moving
steadily onward

while the noise and chatter
of nature’s interlude
finds the quest
for food

in the eyes of the ever busy
squirrel who squirrels away
any nuts he can

to the ever noisy, never
complacent jay
I catch a glimpse of
high in the branches

of acorn tree boughs
apparently abundantly full
whilst he screeches
at the energetic
squirrel

always mindful these acorns
belong to him
the bountiful trees
his domain

trespassing bandits
will receive
a long and wrathful
scolding

such elocution this jay
but the squirrel
will not
be deterred

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures and Created as Art

Squirrel in Tree

June 21, 2018

Sweet Layers of Imagination

Imagination

There are moments I believe
that de’ja’ vu really does exist
when I walk into another world,
an alternate landscape

to escape my obsessed compulsion
crafting a skewed vision filled
with black and white reality

ethereal as stepping on solid clouds
drifting over a technicolor scene
where a yellow brick road
leads to perspicacity
strangely curious

or yet upon closing my eyes
I sleep so deep imagination unfolds
in sweetest layers I inhale
swallowing each one
anxious for
the next

beautiful as pastillage
settling on my tongue
like honey

I see a girl who speaks to trees,
smiling at flowers who
innately knows
her secrets

and where the eyes of animals
reflect her soul
back to her in
infinite profusions
of color

painting details like the spices
completing ingredients
in foods from everywhere
smelling of a full life
in every inhaled
breath

where upon touching a mirror
she steps through liquid mercury
pure as water chaste
before rigidity touches
her image
with age

yet these images might be to me
only lucid as a million stars
in the night sky where
Zeus holds court

only quick
in twilight hours
before I wake

September 17, 2017

Rainbow Laced Muses

dreams are like the sweet smell
of ambrosia
not like
the bitter of coffee
before her

she sits by the restaurant window

staring at nothing

and seeing everything

perhaps she sees her life
without children
running about
demanding
time

time she doesn’t have and
does not have to give
for life should chord

space and quiet

life should be filled

with writing muses
laced with rainbows

filled with artist
paper

& tools for both
housed in a place

beneath
trees

sprinkled with star dust

a place with fields of
wild flowers so
she can commune

with nature
with her
soul

she is lost in her thoughts
as the restaurant
comes to life
around her

with the laughter of

children

playing

she is reminded that life
hinges on choices
of ambivalence

like her food
turning cold
it is only
new

within the essence
of the moment

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday Prompt. Read more at
https://jamiededes.com/2017/09/13/hes-a-tumble-weed-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from Morgue File & digitally altered.

Sweet Ambrosia

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