Christmastime in the suburbs Hustle-bustle, dropping packages Ripping wrapping, burning pie.
Tripping, hiding, sneaking Speeding ticket on Christmas Eve To find that last-minute gift.
But in the country The world is wide The snow unblemished The stars aglow
I sit in the window seat Staring at the moon With the cat on my lap, and tea brewing On a cozy Christmas Eve, in the country.
Moonflowers blooming Faerie voices echoing in the wind. Stars twinkling In the dark velvet far above.
Festivities Revelry Laughter resounding The Midsummer Night's light mood.
A slight breeze, A star-woven wind, The Woodfolk, the Mystical Gath'ring to invoke cheer
Merrily dancing Marvelously twirling Swirling, laughing The Mystic of the Wood on Midsummer Nights
Sweeping round Red cloak, soft velvet Highborn, clearly Proudly carries herself. Regalia
A faint smile A freeing word Much power indeed. Regalia. Abundant feasts Royal suppers Lavish banquets Improvident parties Regalia
Giving, living. Smiling all the while Proud and high. Regalia
Life is much too short.
So slow down. This fleeting moment Is but temporary.
Enjoy it all But keep in mind Life is like a clock
What happens when it runs out of time?
What happens when its time to wind?
I like this. It's kind of magical-sounding, if that's a word. :-)
The indigo of the night sky Filled with silver bells twinkling The luminescent moon Glows purple with the aura of mystic
The light falls upon me I take it in, bathe in the light around me Shining, ever-present, from above. Starlit.
Lonely Fire. . .What is that, exactly? ________________________________________________________________________________
Lonely fire. Fire lost, vanished.
All my dreams and hopes, blown away with the wind And my flame, my passion, Is gone.
All my tears are flowing Naught can dry them Because my passion, my flame, Is gone.
Lonely Fire, Lonely Fire, Come back to me. Return, Return, my passion, my flame.
Lonely Fire, Lonely Fire, Drenched with rain and cold, rendering sorrow and gloom, and stealing my passion, my flame.
Lonely Fire, lost wand'ring, Died under the gaze Of the black, cruel cloud of Fate, Ne'er to put my misery aside.
O! That dreadful day! When cruelty had its way, I watched my flame try to spark one last time, I can never rejoice again.
Lonely Fire, Lonely Fire, Come back to me. Return, Return, my passion, my flame.
Lonely Fire, Lonely Fire, Drenched with rain and cold, giving sorrow and gloom, and stealing my passion, my flame.
Aaah.....Well, spring starts in four days, so it seems appropriate to write a poem about, (you guessed it!) Spring. So this is my take on it. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ Hello! Hello! Haven't you heard? You HAVEN'T? No? Why, sir! Spring is here, why haven't you learned?
For, to not notice all the freshness You truly must be blind! The rivers running, the green grass growing, Sweet and intertwined.
The opening buds Of flowers, e'er so new The butterflies, wobbly and delicate, trying to get at the dew.
Oh! And sir! I almost forgot To tell you about the new leaves on the trees With care and newness, they are wrought Opening the folds, the green leaves, oh, they attract the bees.
The chirping birds, how they sing A new song, one of life, Through the woods and valleys, the song does ring All the animals, no longer living in strife
The cloudless days, Though a chill wind, Oh! Spring DOES have its way, My opinion of you, sir, however will not bend.
So, I tell you, sir, if you'll excuse me, you must be blind, to not see all this beauty.
This is so like, not me, but when I set the pen to the paper this is what came out. So. . . .enjoy, I guess.
I sat thoughtfully, gazing out my window of memories Seeing the evil, recalling the ugly The time of frozen tears.
And then I remember in the cold of that December that good times would persist I got out of my chair, wiped away my tears, and started thinking of the best.
Haha. This is becoming, Your Daily Poem. Well, nothing more to say, so enjoy! Me, facing the ocean. Alone upon a rock I stand. Inhaling the caressing air, I fade softly into Dreamland.
The Lily Fields in the Spring What joy to behold The new scents, The breeze How the ancient elms ring With the sounds of their whispering To one another.
I approach with so light a heart Expecting to be greeted by Something so amazing So stark.
I receive.
______________________________________________________________ Now, note that this isn't my favorite. I just like the part about the trees, whispering. When I was small I always thought that, as I passed through the woods, they were watching me. And whispering about me. I know, I know. I was a strange child. (Still am. Ha.) Anyway, enjoy!
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