Magazine Posts

River's flow,
tears won't dry,
sadness comes,
another goodbye.

Let the wind blow,
through towering trees,
bending of branches,
a cooling breeze.

Sun rays,
slide in backwards,
from a weird sky,
as if it had been rent,
ripped into shreds,
allowing dappled,
light to touch
the ground.
Soundless.

The saddest sound,
I've ever heard,
came from the mouth,
of a wild bird.

The sound, forlorn,
crying a tune,
was made by a
saddened Loon.

The sound rose higher,
many notes may remain.
A haunting cry,
so much pain.

Do we humans,
react the same,
when our love,
no longer came.

A late Spring wind,
blew the tree,
a whistling sound,
slightly off key.

Hot weather
now in sight,
soon to be
another sleepless night.

Rambling brambles,
Blackberries, too.
Stickers, a lot,
Scratches, a few.

Does the morning light,
breaking at dawn,
appear as sunbeams,
across the dewy lawn?

Dawn comes,
Sun rises,
moistures floats
in steamy plumes,
warming the air.
A breeze rustles,
branches and leaves.
Another beautiful day
in the land I love.

The light shone,
in her brown eyes.
She squinted, eyes tight.
Her smile was bright.

Here we are,
the end of April.
Another month,
burnt; ended.

How fast the
months pass by.
Another month,
on its way, to try.

To be warmer,
yet, it's still June.
One shouldn't
speak too soon.

Light and shadow,
an awkward pair,
if used at night,
becoming unaware.

Cumulous clouds,
floating up high.
Billowy, cotton pillows,
in the bluest sky.