Ever More

What good is a day without the night
What is the moon without the stars

Can the world turn on a dime
Can the clouds hang on a string

Why do we remember the falling star
Why do we love the day and fear the night

Will you be there, even when I change my mind at a drop of a dime
Will  you catch the falling stars and hold the night tight as the world hangs at the end of a string

Be here when the sun sets and rise again
Be here when grey skies smile down on us

I love and always will
You are my one and only ever more

Winter Turns

The cold days grow longer
The Sun still slinking away before the day is done
Heavens cracked and snow poured forth
Ice hid sneakily under the heaping piles of deceiving whiteness
Clouds once white start turning grey and heavy
As the Rain grinds deep into banks of snow
The Wet snow sinks heavily into the ground
Mixing snow and rain to slush that freezes in irregular patterns
of foot prints and shovel tracks and half melted shapes
Winter rushing in had tripped and turned to spring

Grandfather Clock

Tick Tock 

Tick Tock

Goes the Grandfather Clock 

at the end of the hall 

to the right

Tick Tock 

Tick Tock

The pendulum swings.

Ticking away the minutes, 

the hours of the days

Tick Tock 

Tick Tock

With the face of the sun

and eyes of the moon

Stands the Grandfather Clock all alone

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

The key has been lost

for over a year 

and still it goes

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

The chime rings clear

Down the hall in the parlor we hear

the strike of noon

Then...

We wait

Held breath in anxious pause

Has it rung its last toll?

Tick Tock 

Tick Tock

Goes the Grandfather Clock 

at the end of the hall 

to the right

The First Snow Fall

The first snow falls
and the woods grow white
The mighty fir trees rise out
from blankets heaped high of snow
Their ever greens peaking through

Silence has fallen
Even the wind speaks in hush tones
Whistling through the trees

No creature is viable 

The only signs of life
small footprints traced
among the trees
Of some unseen force
That pranced lightly
here and there
Before fading in the dusk

Suns light filters through the cracks
Beams of light gleam off
snow covered towers
Sinking lower the colors shift to
oranges and pinks
That warm the cool landscape

As night moves in
Purples and midnight blues
Warping all in pale moons light
Turning forest greens into nights black
Snow glittering silver under the stars
Not so far away an owl cries
and night begins

In The Night

How dark is night
That it precludes the day
That’s its stars shine brighter
Then our sun could ever hope
In night anything is possible
There is no gleaming reality that
Forces it’s self into our minds
Shining a light onto our deepest hopes

The Night Flower Blooms at Midnight

Watch its petals of pearls as they

Slowly come to life

Each stirs softly unfurling

The fringes waking first

Stretch lavishly never moving

But still it creeps outward 

Each petal settling in its place

The Night Flower blooms at midnight

Turning slowly it faces the Moon

The Moons silvery beams  lighting

On dew encrusted petals gleaming in the night

Its heart reveled at last it settles with a sigh

Sunlights first touches fill the sky

Sun sparks fall on the Night Flower

It withers in the suns light

Its head is drooping low

Its petals singed they cascade 

In sorry circles to the ground

The night flower blooms at midnight

Then it is gone

Ode To A Star

Oh you shimmer so

against the velvet night

If I were to be with you

You who gleam so

How colossal you  would be

I would not recognize you little one

here you are but a grain of sand

and still I watch you with fixed fascination

as you twinkle brightly

gleaming so far away

when you are gone

I shall never know

for in my life you shine, 

in my child's you will die

Until the last of your rays 

should light upon this earth

I shall watch you all my life

and in death shall join you.

The Sun

Sun

Hot sun beating down

summer breeze

reminds me of

The woods, 

the stream that ran by

forts left unfinished in childish play

The fields with the grass so high

lupins rolling over soft hills 

dancing among the trees

cold stream falling merrily along

by moss covered rocks

scaling the elfin mountains 

the moss damp and cool,

sprinkled by the stream 

Sneaking through the pines

sent of pine permeates

sap stickily scents the hands

sneaking from the woods in to open field 

a bush laden with fruit 

Raspberries fresh picked still veiled in dew

stuffed with jubilation in mouths 

eager for their sweetness.

Slipping back within the folds of the midnight forest