Thursday, 21 January 2010

Nature poems.

Part 1: the seeing.

Penned nature poems
in the darkness of twilight
for your child's pleasure.

Purple sky streaked with
milk, and a Moon of pale death
throwing light on trees.

The outlines are framed
in front of mountains and creeks;
carried down river.

Part 2: the calling.

Coyotes beg the
Moon to come down and play; far
from its starry friends.

The trees seperate
as if channeling nature's
will; wind scowls: deep tones.

And the night is writ
like it's for my eyes only,
and I write the night.

Part 3: the being.

Nature poems: my
play thing, in the dead of night;
when all has made winks.

Submerged in deep sleep,
but hearts thud in baritone;
in my mind, I hear.

Water is the life;
for the life of me, never
might we become merged.

Part 4: the becoming.

When all is quiet,
I see your eye above the
trees; you call to me.

You whisper in my
ears and caress my senses
with autumnal words.

When my eyes open
I can smell your life and waste,
and I see clearly.

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