Public Posts

A melodic change
of events occurred,
when the songs,
of a bird were heard.

Heard by everyone.
one and all,
mostly in the spring,
but now in the fall.

Such a sound,
I will always hear,
when in the yard
and the birds were near.

Rainbows and Shamrocks,
a beautiful picture to astound.
Seeing them grow, naturally,
makes Nature so profound.

A good thing,
as I'm starting to see,
a resonate beauty,
for both you and me.

I love this time of the year,
when leaves are changing color,
from greens to yellow, red,
orange and brown.
Another cycle, another year,
it won't be too long,
before they disappear.

Walking a path,
of a garden style,
among the cinders,
and hyacinths, while

observing, tulips and daffodils.
A path of beauty I see,
bringing joy and pleasure,
to the lucky people, we.

Shimmering, lights the path,
through the garden dark.
Moon beams, light the way,
making the path less stark.

Now, as we approach,
the summers end,
autumns on its way,
the Solstice will begin.

Through a dark cloud,
shone the rising sun.
A start, to a late summer day,
not a surprise to anyone.

There is always something,
to be thankful for, during this life.
One to have been fortunate,
to have had a lovely wife.

I recall her brown eyes,
and her bright smile, missing
but most of all I miss,
her sweet lips kissing,
me on my neck.

Shimmering beams,
from the Moon, as it rose,
was magic to the flowers,
in their evening pose.

Light shadows fell,
from leaves and stem.
A mirage from heaven
and a heavenly Amen.

It's early in the morning,
the end of summer's fling.
It will soon be the Equinox,
as Autumn begins its thing.

The 21st or 23rd of September,
is forecast for that to go.
and we will soon have,
a beautiful, Autumn show.

Leaves will turn from,
motley green and brown,
to burst of red and yellows,
as they fall down on the ground.

Alongside the angled byways,
a canal of waters pass,
as rainfall follows gravity,
towards a swampy morass.

The roar of waves, beating
against the Ocean shore,
promotes our primal senses,
of what we were before.

The scent of salted sea spray,
assails our sense of smell,
with the sound of Seagulls crying,
completes our return, so well.

When the cool ground fog,
rises on a summer morn.
It projects an image
of being reborn.

A coolness descends,
on the morning light,
shadows shrink,
dawn replaces night.

A pleasant place,
a life to be,
as we age,
our memories flee.

No wishful thinking,
by this aged man,
just a realization that
I still can,

look forward to
a seasons change,
and not worry about,
if I need tire chains.

What light shines, through
the window, far?
Me thinks it maybe
the Northern Star.

A star which guides,
our life at night,
to assure we all,
will live just right.