A Wintry night

a wintery night…….and then winter rolled in
across the landscape
with frosty strokes of theatrical color,
in contrasts of light
and dark
extending over
turbulent waters
the inhabitants shivered…




Winter is not overcome

And don’t think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter.
It’s quiet, but the roots are down there riotous.

autumn wordless wednesday
Cold winds make a comeback,
tossing up umber leaves.
Cerulean skies turn to grey,
pelting rain brings reprieve.

Icy breeze begins to frolic,
in streets
lined with tall trees,
gutters grow heavy,
and the sun flickers
in fragile beams.

Stunned by this wintry gale,
clouds hide an oblique sun,
denial of the season’s
winter is not overcome!

Cloudy aspects greet the day,
bird’s drift
with passing storms,
outdoor promises are put aside,
parched attitudes are being transformed!



In my little town…

Day twelve…http://www.napowrimo.net/

hope 2

My eyes are caught by misty dunes, patched with bottle green shrubbery. Rose-colored hues drift above dreamy forests on the liquid skyline. A loud but distant rumble crashes into purposeful silence, the ocean calls. Coherent skies hang, and ashen clouds smudge the cyan haze.

I amble along a tree-lined avenue, passing a medley of quiet abodes, and dissolve into the bliss of outdoor senses. Familiar faces gesture friendly greetings, passersby of small town pleasantries. A dog barks hello, behind fenced longing, a bristling coat of anticipation.

Unexpectedly, small birds move in the thick undergrowth, chirping announcements in flashes of red and yellow. Guinea fowls scratch the dirt in noisy swirls of excitement. The tarmac meanders, and flows into inviting directions. I’m taken down to the surprise of soft sands and calm waters. Rowboats snuggle, and mingle with the muddy shoreline. Ducks float on reflections of shimmering transparency, leaving delicate ripples in their wake. A cranky seagull bellows overhead, and startles me.  Together we watch his catch swim away, into tomorrow’s deepest blue.

nature’s rhapsody
extravagant sensations
of unspoilt vistas

poetry month

Lonely Vagabond

….these things become the norm: that some homeless people die of cold on the streets is not news. In contrast, a ten point drop on the stock markets of some cities is a tragedy. A person dying is not news, but if the stock market’s drop ten points it is a tragedy! Thus people are disposed of, as if they were trash.
― Pope Francis

lonely vagabond 2

He sat alone in silence;
all reason
was gone,
unable to feel his breath,
a lonely vagabond.

Drops of rain
caught the tears
that hid his heartache,
dark nights whiled away,
on concrete landscapes.

He wondered
if they noticed him,
dirty and exposed.
Did he choose to live his life,
on streets,
bitterly cold?

Winter winds
and shelter held no warmth,
living on sidewalks,
he dreaded icy storms!

All he wanted
was his daily bread,
a greeting,
and a smile,
to look on him with mercy,
and to stay for a little while.