In the wheel of Earth’s years
we watch as Autumn’s clock
Tick-tocks in tiny goldenrod
September petal’d seconds
Frosty trees bleed scarlet hours
through veins of October leaves
Amber minutes wither and fall
drifting in November’s breeze
And the silent strike of midwinter
turns December’s snowflake gears
bee-buzzed blooms
wilt white into winter —
hellish heavy heat
silently softens to snow —
lovely lustrous leaves
fall freckled in frost —
senescent slanting sun
solstices southward —
the young year yules
dizzily debarks december
Welcome, Winter. Your late dawns and chilled breath make me lazy, but
P.S. Thank you to all who let me know about King Features Syndicate and USA Today using this for their “Cryptoquote” on
When a fresh springtime breeze
embraces you — fling your arms
wide open and hug it right back!
phoenix monsoon storm
haboob isn’t dirty word
it is dusty though
Wind tries to show Tree how to run wild.
Tree: “I cannot leave this place.”
Wind: “Then let’s dance.”
Springtime is a poet —
the blue sky its blank page
so vibrant green in rhyme
a different metre for every clime
birds chirping to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dews
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whispering in each breeze
butterflies — floating apostrophes
ladybugs dot floral question marks
blissful bees stray stanza to stanza
seeds disperse from verse to verse
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended
Dawn spreads her wispy pink angel wings over the morning.
winter and spring overlap at the seams—
chilly breezes and warm green dreams!
Spring is the green
is the peace
is the breeze
and the blossoms
and the blues
past the buds
to the pinks
on the brink
and the warmth
and the warbles
and the weeds
all the yellows
and the bees
and the buzzing
living branches
and the grasses
and the gardens
and the growing
and the blowing
of the pollens
oh! the purples
and the chirples
of the birds
and the beauty
and the butterflies
in the skies
and the sun—
Springtime’s fun!
I drifted into a summer-nap
under the hot shade of July
serenaded by a cicada lullaby
to drowsy-warm dreams
of distant thunder…
P.S. Thank you to everyone who let me know about USA Today and King Features Syndicate using this poem for their July 5th Cryptoquote.
the world we abuse
roasting us like marshmallows
in a fire we lit
Spring: the music of open windows.