Contributor Posts

A golden orb,
a mottled Sun.
Is this the way
the World Begun?

A pinpoint of light,
comes from afar.
Is it the Moon
or a wandering star?
Light begins breaking,
across clouds, piled high,
as fluffy pillows,
in a cotton candy sky.
Comes the Dawn,
spreading it's charm,
of a new day,
being Sunny and warm.

Blowing wind through wired fence,
harmonics of metal strings,
humming out a lonely sound.
Rattling of wooden slats,
blending into string noise.
Is it a melody I hear,
as wind bursts forth,
shaking branch and leaf?

Bring forth from Heaven,
life's eternal light.
Change all the grayness
to something so bright
it will smite the darkness
into a Springful delight.

The sky was the color
of Chinese Porcelain Clay.
A deepening blue; crimson the edge,
when the Sun sank below the
Horizon, with an explosion of noise
was when a discovery came,
about this beautiful life of anguish
and pain. While the beauty of
life will always remain.

Oft flows the river,
fed by many streams,
towards the great, vast Sea,
bringing the rich nutrients.
We are great polluters.
We have ruined many lands
but we now must control
the pollution causing climate change
or there will be no tomorrow
for our children or their offspring.

A creak,
a noise,
a swaying tree
as wind pummels
the branches,
drooping above.
Dead wood will
fall to the ground,
so old, so brittle.

The crows came by, the baby too,
letting me know they weren't pleased,
by leaving "bird doo"
splattered over the deck, I could see.
Thank you Lord for the freshets of rain.

A twinkling of Stars,
when they do their dance,
is the prelude for love,
if you are given the chance.

Old growth trees
pierced the air,
a living cathedral,
growing every where.
Majestic the height,
upward they sprung.
God's masterpiece,
hiding the Sun
from forest floor,
moss covered timbers,
fallen long ago,
with Huckleberry bush
growing from older trees,
dotting the surface
with patches of blue,
provided by God
for all of you.

Wind blows hard
on branches of trees,
making them sway
inconsistently.
Leaves fall,
floating to the ground,
landing in piles, high.
Leaves will feed,
as they decompose.
Make sure you rake
them from your lawn
or you soon will
require new sod.

I miss you,
Words easily said.
I look for those days,
which will soon lie ahead.