In pale moonlight,
where a chorus of
peepers no longer sing
nor slick back critter
fiddle a lonely tune.
The lime green luna
still clings on wood;
while a single bull frog
drums his final tune.
I hear solitary blues of
who, whoot, whoot,
whoot, whoot, whoooo!
Before song birds sing
cheery morning melody;
he seeks his final encore.
Let’s stand and give applause
“Who, whoot, whoot, whooo”;
knowing dVerse ‘sbeen a whoot.
What form is next as
old owl spreads his wings;
an Open Link to skies?
There’s Poetics in his song
always Meeting the Bar
from branch to branch;
he sings… chatter of wood
a Pubtalk of its own; the
sounds of poetics in the night.
This inspiration floated in my open window at 3:30 am, as an owl sang is nightly tune. Yes, I did get up after words danced in my head. I knew if I didn’t, they would have disappear at dawn. dVerse is still celebrating their 3 year anniversary. Stop by. This piece is dedicated to Sherry Blue Sky a lover of nature.
Beneath the shadow of the wood
where under log and vine do rest
rustles things we do not see nor hear;
haunting beneath sluggish moon light.
Lingering starlight stretches within the sky
settles upon verdant tree tops like mist
mingling about an extraordinary crowd;
congenial laughter elevates heavenward.
How they do the jitterbug, then slide slowly
stepping to the snail surf, the widow
waltz a witty twirl weaving with a curl;
cause everyone knows a bug can boogie!
Bugs danced poignant steps in twilight
twisting and a turning so endlessly;
effortless in inquisitive poetic form
fading on fancy wings of midnight moths.
Morning sunlight winked a dawning morn
most tiny bug’s did rest awhile…
awaken when the fireflies light the sky;
sleep little one with hopeful dreams;
of Boogie Bugs under shadows of the wood.
Over at dVerse we’re dancing up a storm… stop by!
You gave us fairy dance in the soft mist-
we wept as butterfly withered under leaf;
now knowing fragile wings do break.
Then hushed October bloomed with blush
of frost upon the leaf… fruit too lost;
as does so much in nature’s shifting season..
When wintry winds did blow…
the stars hung heavy in winter’s snow;
what did they really see- you showed us.
As the birch bends left and right-
leaves like tresses dried in the sun;
shadows dance your mind’s paths.
The thawing wind brought all…
the rain, singer, nester, and
you scattering poems upon page.
You’ve asked if there be some mistake
in the lovely, dark, deep wood?
No, we did indeed hear the harness bells.
I see the road now taken in
lines etched upon your face-
a map only a poet could wear.
Knowing the two in yellow wood…
you took the less traveled
taking us all there along with you.
“To a road I won’t remember”;
where “children, spouting in endless waves”
“combing strands of dust” from paths.
My “emotions like dark stormy sea”
I “plunge into dark water” as wind
“sweeps cobwebs off the wall”.
That is the world of a poet!
The Poet is a re-blogged piece with reference to Robert Frost’s poems: Butterfly, October, Stars, To the Thawing Wind, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, and The Road Not Taken. However, quotes are new lines attributed to Brian, Claudia, Grace, Gay, and Victoria some of our modern-day poets, who I’m sure, have walked the road with Robert along with other fine poets over at dVerse.
Hold the banner for Him we seek
for His resting place is glorious.
May earth be filled even overflow
with knowledge of the Lord,
as waters of the endless sea.
Look, a child plays at cobra’s hole,
as his hand rest in vipers den!
Nursing and weaned alike shall play;
no sting, no bit, no harm
lodges in the Holy Mountain.
Wolf dwells with gentle lamb,
leopard lie and rest with young goat,
fatlings together calf and lion;
as the cow and bear graze on shoots.
Amazing as a little child leads!
Read Isaiah 8-8-11… what a cool time that will be..
As I amble amber path early morn
the raven rears his beady head and calls,
a locomotive’s moan looms the spring air;
as tadpoles test sallow, murky pond.
Empty eggs shells now afloat on water
with every painful changing cell let known;
new beginnings battles forth with each day.
Frog and I, for a moment, shadowing
we wonder… wait for God’s next chosen stage,
as I amble ravens fill looming skies.
“Let my teaching drop as the rain,
My speech distill as the dew,
As raindrops on the tender herb,
And as showers on the grass.”
Let my instruction glisten as sunshine,
my utterance drawn out as break of morn;
as sunbeams stretch, stretching, stretched
and as light’s filament wits upon the fields.
Let my guidance be fertile as spring soil,
my prattle a pledge to fruitful earth;
as dirt nestle, nestles nestling new seed
and as ground houses roots deep.
Let us retrace the path walked in wilderness,
our mouth declare His righteousness
as a waterfall baths what lies below;
may children place their hope in the Lord.
You see them everywhere this time of the year… children. Hope each one of you have the opportunity to make a difference in the life of a child. Quote from the book of Deuteronomy 32:2 Linking up at dVerse.
photo by: Nancy Landry
An enduring Wisconsin whippoorwill;
I heard upon waterbed drift lonesome.
Heard its mournful echo faint and hollow.
Its whimper wooed, wooed, wooed;
endless whoop, ever wakeful summon.
Bring forth… what image I
encompass, loosen in undying universe;
boundless, pondering, mulling, casting
tracing voice to correlate human notes.
Yet what link will be casted?
Yet what docile message be revealed?
Yet the call embraces still night air;
in undying universe.
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock.
If anyone hears My voice and opens the door,
I will come in to him and dine with him,
and he with Me. “ Revelations 3:20
Linking up at dVerse were we are doing a bit of traveling.