Falling Leaves & Fuzzy Grass

KODAK Digital Still Camera
KODAK Digital Still Camera
KODAK Digital Still Camera
KODAK Digital Still Camera

Falling Leaves & Fuzzy Grass

Through falling leaves

& fuzzy grass

I hear fall’s whispers

As I pass

On glass waters

I watch you float

In orange, sun-yellows, gold

You gloat

Undisturbed by my remote

Passing by

I hold this day

Within my heart

Knowing from fall’s colors

I shall have to never part

So, if I am allowed to walk

Longer upon this earth

At another day, another time

I shall once again be witness

To that christening divine

Of yet one more glorious fall’s birth!

Falling Leaves

Falling Leaves

Falling Leaves

Autumn’s colors splash

Everywhere

Shy at first

until

They burst,

screaming

Through the air

Beneath a crystal sky

Blue air above my head

Leaves go floating by

Ruby’s reds, oranges

Sun’s-burst yellows

Explode within my soul

For wasn’t that your goal?

God, didn’t you do it just

For me

Rent them from your heart

Created just to please

The senses

They fall below my knees

In such beauty, your glory’s colors.

Oh, if I could die like that!

Last Blooms of Summer

 

I could not resist. Our greenway system goes by a large river. The wildflowers this year have been beautiful. I took a few photos because I’m sure they won’t last much longer. I noticed the first few red berries on one of the bushes which don’t usually come out until this time of year, late summer or early fall.

I love the old sycamore trees with their white bark. You can really see them good in winter when they lose their leaves. Even though the sky was overcast, the river always has good displays of reflections whether it’s plants or the colors of the sky. I hope you have very blessed day!

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Hidden Garden

hiddengarden

A Hidden Garden

(Within a hidden garden)

Inside a busy cityscape

Lies an open gate

To a hidden gem

Where mysteries lurk,

Water’s secrets float and swim

 

A serene lake’s surface

Offers repose

For water’s nymphs

To, chat, relax

& often dip their toes

 

Unseen by most

But yet they are near

Try to catch a glance

As sunbeams flash

Upon a wing so clear

 

A fairy queen sits enthroned

Upon a flowered trumpet

As her minions below

Twitter, laugh and dance

At water’s edge within its misted glow

 

At the end of the path

Too soon it feels

I must leave such

An enchanted place

As I reluctantly turn

Toward reality’s beckoning gate

 

Forlornly, I sigh

Not wishing to say goodbye

Yet, this I know

Within my mind’s eye

I will always hold

The joy of the hidden path

Thus, anytime down this

Winding shady lane

I shall often choose to go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Morning’s Mercies

 

Morning’s Mercies

 

Fresh, morning’s mercies

Recreated new world

Still trembling in moistures

Of crystal dew-drops

These shining pearls

Festoon green-leafed spots

Of glory

 

Ancient trees, boulders

At edge of water’s shoulders

Could tell many a story

If we take the time to listen

Upon the banks of an earthy liquor

sparkling in bright glistens

Of past times caught, moving

within its wettest web

 

It’s moving cascades end

Where the calm lake’s surface begins

Kissed by angel’s lips

Granting serenity, peace

To all willing beneath

Its surface their mind to dip

To contemplate and connect

With our Creator’s grace-full face

 

 

 

Leaf’s Lace

green pine tree covered with snow
Photo by Amelie on Pexels.com

 

Leaf’s Lace

 

Leaf’s lace

In water

Frozen for all time

Your clear crystal glory

Only brings to mind

 

A forest’s giant

Rough bark glazed

Painted in winter’s whites

Glistening, waiting

In a cooler’s sun’s light

 

I walk through

Boots all full of snow

Enjoying the dripping silence

Of this cold day’s glow

 

Nature waiting

All quiet, sleeping for now

As it comes in unannounced

Spring’s breath blows gently

Stirring to arouse

Trumpets

 

Trumpets

Trumpets on a vine
Orange glory within green
Along a wooden fence line
Meant for all to see

Miniatures to be sure
In silence they are strung
Muted, without a cure
Simply for my eye’s joy
Have they all been hung

Imbued with intense color
Meant to capture our attention
Will we stop to hear their message
& its silent reminder not to shun?

Of a day in history’s future
Of a Lord returning in glory
Before He arrives to meet us
A trumpet’s loud call will sound
His story

Of majesty, purity, love
And judgement
All will bow, bend the knee
Every eye at last to see
This, His truest face of grace

I wonder,
Will these smaller trumpets
Be allowed at last to join
Their larger brother’s voice
To herald a new world
As all nature sings to rejoice

Medieval Forest

 

Medieval Forest

Medieval forest
Formed from trees
Of old
Stories of
Ancient ancestors
Without one
Word told

Silent remnants
Of a quieter world
Watchers of events
Man, animals
Passing through
Still your green
Canopies you unfurl

for us to enjoy
In a faster paced world
We need your reflective
Faces
To remind us of the
graces
Still to be had from
The quiet stillnesses
within
A medieval forest.

 

Queen Anne’s Lace

queenanne

 

Queen Anne’s Lace

Queen Anne’s Lace,
Your demure beauty
always knows its place
along a roadside or in
a green grass-tufted field
if I pinched a slender stalk
would I hear you squeal?

You, very proper and so prim
I think I would never hear
From the pinchings of one stem
A solitary sound to clear
those silent, snowy lips

Regal, austere,
Elegant long limbs
Waving through the breeze
White-crested heads
Do acquiesce to bend
Your rarest esteem

Of this fair day
Sun clears all clouds away
Azure blue above
You below in your
gentle exquisiteness
I will never cease to love!!

Sister, Sister

Sister, Sister
(Thistles)

Sister, sister
Whispered with a care
Waving fragile heads
In the moving air

Oh, be careful
Here they come
Strangers, interlopers
Into this our world
Under a warming sun.

Will they despoil
Or yet worse
Uproot our lives
From this gentle soil
Our loving home

Stay together
In groups they will see
To Leave us alone
Our nettles will sting
As well as any bee’s

Our heads turn above
long, lovely necks
Pink and purple strands
Of elongated tresses
Designed not for picking
By the hand of any man

Respect is all
We ask for
We too enjoy a part
In all life springing
From this,
Our God’s living soil