Monday, January 1, 2018

JANUARY 2018


Nearly full moon
delectable confection
wrapped in spun sugar
long after midnight
celestial surprise 
ushered in a New Year 


Naked winter trees
gyrate madly
in a quiet meadow
this is nature
doing some serious
getting down
shaking that thang
feeling the beat
beneath their feet
is this really happening
or was it just my inner child
daydreaming again
making up whimsical stuff
and it's not even Wednesday!!


My favorite road today
is no road at all
it's the slim deer trail
leading to the creek
this morning all was
swathed in foggy veils
like the mists of Avalon
sacred isle safely hidden
from curious human eyes
what wonders and magic
might be hidden down
here in our small kingdom
where we come to refresh
weary hearts and souls
when feeling overwhelmed
by the world outside
this blessed peaceful realm

***

Many years ago I watched
a lovely Russian ballet
one scene stuck in my mind
large corps de ballet
wearing splendid long gowns
wove their way too and fro
as if floating on the stage
this evening distant memory
suddenly rose covey of quail
floated across the trail
bodies held proudly erect
stick legs a mere blur
splendid head gear bobbing
disappearing into the Toyon


On fragile wings
winter rose angel hovers
symbol of hope

***

In the still of the night
sometimes my brain wakes me
chattering away endlessly
never speaking of pleasant things
of course always fretting about
what disasters might visit us next
which bill did I forget to pay
did I remember to give Petey his
evening pill calming his body
slowing the growth of evil lumps
should I take three weeks instead
of my usual two visiting home
allowing for a little special time
visiting friends overseas again
will Richard be alright handling
our place and furries without help
on and on my nighttime brain drones
driving me to distraction at times
all I really want to hear is the sweet
sound of peepers singing in the ponds
across the creek but it's still too
cold yet they're no doubt sleeping
maybe the soft hooting of the owl
or the communal songs of coyotes
that's all I really want to hear
in the still of a sleepless night


In the still of the night
under cover of darkness
moss quietly woke nourished
by gentle nurturing rain
dry brown clumps turned
into miniature forests
from lush tussocks slender
stems rise up bravely
delicate droplets tremble
beneath a pale winter sun


Solemn golden eyes
hold my gaze
burrowing owl bliss

***

My early childhood home
was with my maternal grandparents
living in a gray block
on a street which hadn't forgotten
the last war by a long shot
sooty dark facade riddled
with plentiful bullet holes
grim remainder of a war
that should never have been
but then no war should
ever be yet humans seem to
forget those lessons learned
about every 75 years or
so I read quite recently
yet not all was darkness
there was the ice man
spilling chilly splinders
on the ground eagerly
snatched up by little kids
there were the daisy crowns
my auntie still living
at home would crown me with
on visits to a nearby park
grandpa sometimes took me around
on errands now and then even
a secret visit to his regular
pub sitting me on the bar
with a thimble of egg liquor
getting slices of sausage
at the butchers and chunks of
delicious cake from grandpa who
was a baker by trade now
lucky to have come home
all in one piece from a war
he wanted no part of as it meant
leaving his wife and 3 kids
behind to face the bombs and shelters
he was send to the frontlines
no doubt thought suitable punishment
for opposing the regime
maybe that's why I am outspoken
knowing the bitter price
paid when people are silent
until it's too late and they are
trapped in a net of their own making


Late in the day
suddenly pale rose gold glow
suffuses our valley
dove gray veils race along swiftly
now and then revealing
lush creamy undercoats
then suddenly peeking through
swaths of palest robin egg blue
now once again the light fades
clouds grow dark and sullen
olive's pale silvery leaves tremble
in ever growing gusts of wind
for one brief moment patch of rose
silk appears then swiftly disappears
all in the blink of an eye
smudged lavender gloaming
suddenly
night
falls


***

My favorite way to get away
both then and now
BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS


Before dawn this morning
slippery dew covered hill
moving cautiously yet swiftly
totally focused on capturing
her warm golden radiance
wreathed in morning fog
not quite full but full enough
sating these hungry eyes