Magazine Posts

Wind in the Willows,
shaking limbs of trees,
a freshet burst of wind,
a very strong breeze.

Soon Spring will come.
A time to sip the wine,
enjoying Nature's beauty,
the beautiful Columbine.

A withered rose,
it's life now spent,
after struggling,
when grown in cement.

Look at me.
How pretty I was.
Now here I am,
once pretty, now dust.

A Rose,
solo flower.
sprang forth
from a
crack, in
the pavement.
A lovely break,
or Nature's way
of mystery.

I wrote this 6 years ago, a different time, a different style

Outward the wind,
in a matrix throw.
Returning to you,
in a bigger blow.

Winds, a blast,
rattling against
a windowpane,
rain trickles,

over sash
and sill.
We should wait,
never will.

The rain splattered
the river danced,
as rain fell it was
Nature's romance.

Air to rain,
water to soil,
makes me happy
and my blood to boil.

Light of morning,
Light so bright,
Light is coming,
Holding back the night.

Wandering the path,
in wood and plain,
across green meadows,
I travel once again.

Over moss covered logs,
across creeks rushing,
over lichen covered rocks,
makes my heart sing.

I love the flowers,
which bloom in the Spring,
especially when,
the songbirds sing.

Always a small notion,
to think of the past,
not needing to be sad,
for our memories don't last.

The darkness pursued
the light of day,
covering the beauty
with light of grey.

Sun rays began
to create the dawn,
as daylight returns,
and we yawn.

Setting of the Sun,
spills shadows to the ground.
A gentle breeze, moves leaves
without a sound.

In the distance, I hear
the sound of a Loon,
which I understand,
you will have company soon.

A Loon sounds
eerie at night,
as creatures are moving
and Bats take flight.