Still Time

Still the hands of time
while maples, leafed out atop the hills,
make canopies that ripple gently
with the kiss of July’s breath,
Then the glory days of August bloom
partner in dance with the sprightly song
of summer sun.

Another short one,
Leaves turning, falling ever faster,
the calendar growing thinner now
as the mind leans closer to
Autumn. But stay, September can wait.
Set silver notes afloat in sun shine;
there is still time.

Without Doubt

The summer sky,
by night laced with stars,
by day a larger one. The sun

all spark and flare
and promises of tans
even with the sunscreen.

Last night blew the light
away. Today the wind reigns
over gray skies.

It is July, the sun
will return and when it sets
night will again be laced

with stars. The cycle is constant;
you can count on it,
Have no fear.

Light Seasoning

In the Spring
when flowers bloomed,
I gave no thought to seasons,
It was Spring,
I had no reason.

Then Summer
wore blazing sun,
days of light and days of fun,
but Summer
spent its passion.

Bless Autumn
with its pied ruse,
tangled vines, and vibrant hues,
O! Autumn,
I would stay with you

But Winter
came and claimed my
hand, lined my face, stole the sun,
O! Winter
cold, what have you done?

Cat in the Window

Bella’s sitting in the window
sun sparking from her fur
like fiery diamonds,
motor running at fast idle,
eyes peering past where I  can see,
She might be contemplating her name,
Certainly she’s living up to it,
Whatever her thoughts,
they do not make her anxious
but lend a studious look
or is that boredom?

(I was outside talking to her through the window and she pressed her nose against the pane, giving her a pig snout look. I couldn’t resist snapping her picture)

 

Poet Sun

A poet sun this morning,
this light that turns
                           bare trees baroque.
In rotation with November,
the harvest safely in,
                            faith is a sure thing.
Earth wears the sun
                 like a hat that says Imagine.
Some will say we’re dreamers;
 maybe they are right,            
We create our own reality
                    when we believe in peace.
It’s easy to see the world as one
in the hush of early morning
                             with a liturgy of sun.