Magazine Posts

The land lay fallow,
no plowing to do.
We must replant,
in a year or two.

Tilling the soil,
after the long rest,
plowing and harrowing,
will work the best.

A small wind chime,
sways, in the tree,
hanging near buds,
blooming, to see.

The limb structures
of this old tree,
is craggy, rough,
but a pleasure to see.

Spring arrived here,
to no avail,
as the temperature,
is colder than an Alaska Jail.

Branches dancing
in the Spring breeze.
Waving, waving,
waving at me.

Bunch grasses,
blowing, a sway,
on this very
windy Spring Day.

Bluish-green butterfly
flits through the air,
happiness and joy,
follows you, everywhere.

Have you heard,
a songbird sing,
when in flight,
not on a wing?

Imagine the sound
a sharp, sharp trill,
when you listen for
a singing Whippoorwill.

If you relax and
don't be in a rush,
you may hear a song,
of a small thrush.

Raining hard,
in many sheets,
blowing wind,
starting to beat,
against window
panes of glass,
wetting siding,
now soaked.

A muddy track,
winds through,
trees swaying.
Don't get lost
in reverie,
I'm no longer,
the man
I used to be.

The day before yesterday
was the same day,
it was today,
so, relax, be well,
as we get some warmth
in a revised Spring Day.

On gossamer wings,
it states in a poem,
flying to somewhere,'
going back home.

The loneliest song,
I've ever heard,
the whispering voice
of a chirp less bird.

A gloomy, wet, rainy day,
greets us in the morning.
Sidewalks wetted,
by falling rain,
dark clouds, low to ground,
is depressing, to Sun lovers.

The icy fingers
of Winter's end,
pry into a Spring,
where snow descends.

The grass was wet,
with new fallen snow.
Please leave us Winter,
do it now, just go.

Smokey blossoms,
pinkish hue,
seeing this tree,
thinking of you.