It's golden teacher appreciation day, a shiny red apple;
Like scarlet carnations and roses, compel smiles ample.
To worthy ones, who helped shape hopes and dreams,
Like still silence of moonlight, when birdsong screams.
A card for the teacher, at orange sunset of school days,
Whose lessons follow forever, like a purple, misty haze.
Deep emerald days of youth, as yellow butterflies roam,
Will find you again in memory, after you've gone home.
Pink, with elegant, sun-loving petals, scented,
plush and lush, like hued nebulae, suspended.
Preoccupied with visitors, south wind and rain,
plum butterflies and more, ever coming again!
Pretty prestige; minty green, garden's delight,
Pearly pink buds, under nomad clouds of white,
Peaceful in nature, like a silvery moon at night.
It was indeed a long night, as many tossed and turned in a dreamless void. Yet, for the fifth moon in the year of the virus, I would rather remain locked down
Lest you shed my piteous fate another tear, know my lot in life is a little better than the isolated souls in stealthy battle with death. And of those quarantined only to the tiny quotas for the breath of life, but who would rather trade in such direness for an instant demise
It is any and every soul in this oubliette who has been locked up but with doors ajar. Seers say with the bliss of a century comes agonies in an annual crisis of pains. Yet, mortality in these days of May may be more than those in prior months of His unmerited mercies
Let those who still long for the new decade’s daydreams now appreciate the post-pandemic possibilities of a new norm and...
Let those who eventually live to tell the tale, share with generations the wrath of the minutely unseen, for this dreary night of nightmares is utterly devoid of a wink of deep sleep
......
Birds and trees beckoned
and like a rocket to the
stars, I was alone.
A triumph of fern green woods
in the glamour of stillness.
Lost in the vastness
yet God sees my every move.
Songs of the sunshine
......
the sun rose lemon
wildflowers speckled the grass
marigold gardens
the skies were orange
with touches of red and mauve
the wind burst with sound
colorful birds sang
their mystery treetop songs
......
It's golden teacher appreciation day, a shiny red apple;
Like scarlet carnations and roses, compel smiles ample.
To worthy ones, who helped shape hopes and dreams,
Like still silence of moonlight, when birdsong screams.
A card for the teacher, at orange sunset of school days,
Whose lessons follow forever, like a purple, misty haze.
Deep emerald days of youth, as yellow butterflies roam,
Will find you again in memory, after you've gone home.
Pink, with elegant, sun-loving petals, scented,
plush and lush, like hued nebulae, suspended.
Preoccupied with visitors, south wind and rain,
plum butterflies and more, ever coming again!
Pretty prestige; minty green, garden's delight,
Pearly pink buds, under nomad clouds of white,
Peaceful in nature, like a silvery moon at night.
The sunny pleasures of cactus blooms,
brighten aged gold, and sunset rooms,
Like sunbirds flitting in purple plumes,
once dusk has known many perfumes.
Prickly cactus blooms, orange sun gift,
Also enjoyed during the dawn red shift.
Denizens of golden gritty sand, hottest,
creating dunes where the wind is swift.
Twinkling stars were receding rapidly, as I had always known they would,
When rouge sun touched the eastern sky, to color a whole neighborhood.
The timid alabaster moon was in hiding, taking with him, his native luster,
As myriad fireflies retreat dark nights, to where the wilder blooms cluster.
A speckled rooster stood with bated breath, anticipating his big moment,
As the insistent rainbows, we seldom see, cannot tolerate postponement.
I was an enthusiastic naturalist, always observing our rich, natural world,
......
Purple tinged late night
Vague shadows dance with the wind
and trees are silent
Secret undercover scents
wander near the still mountains
Golds reds and creams in
meadows of wildflower dreams
beside flowing brooks
The golden days are waiting
......