A dance of two, dance of two, gold sun and moon,
Granting sunrises, inky midnights, and afternoon.
A dance of two, dance of two, ruby petals of June,
With successive, hued seasons, ever coming soon.
Gaiety in deep, powdery snow-pearly winter noon,
And everlasting, jade springtime-pretty bird tune.
A dance of two, dance of two, on fall skies maroon,
When vivid colors rain, and tousled flowers swoon.
Of time 'twas told that seasons be;
A time for all activity.
An hour for birth, an hour to die.
To laugh and play, an hour to cry.
An hour to kill, an hour to heal;
An hour to tear, an hour to seal.
An hour to wail, an hour to dance...
......
its very existence
is brought into question
each passing year
in this season-forsaken
corner of the world
the sun’s advance
toward this frigid
wind-blown high north
takes place behind
......
The flickering, dreamy firelight, does a sultry dance,
Upon the walls of cozy evening, at autumn's arrival.
The fading sun left its memory, the crackling flames;
And bluebird sings sunshine in lush, scented tropics.
The shadows are in rhythm, with the whirling snow,
On the edge of chill November, flying by my window.
In the joy of swift, vivid seasons, blooms are coming,
For when nature's not singing, it's sweetly humming.
The glistening drops on the red firebush stretching its branches forth
Delicate sage tinted leaves dancing in the warming sun
Herald the purple colors of the Royal Empress trees
The waltz of spring has begun
All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby April 21, 2021
All Material Stored in Author Base.
Summer’s cremation
Funeral pyres foreshadow
Winter of lost souls
The flickering, dreamy firelight, does a sultry dance,
Upon the walls of cozy evening, at autumn's arrival.
The fading sun left its memory, the crackling flames;
And bluebird sings sunshine in lush, scented tropics.
The shadows are in rhythm, with the whirling snow,
On the edge of chill November, flying by my window.
In the joy of swift, vivid seasons, blooms are coming,
For when nature's not singing, it's sweetly humming.
you think that you are strong
but i see right through you
your heart is a glass shell
hollow and empty, a ghost in hell
you wear your coldness like a badge
but an emotional fool is what you are
because you think that you are strong
when really you are not
you think that you are brave
......
a walk in the wind
in the fresh, fragrant season
vivifying breaths
a walk in wildness
sunlit hair is in my eyes
disorderly blooms
a walk in chaos
that keeps the pinwheels turning
......
I was a professional landscaper, with passion for nature, and a green thumb,
Like passions of smothering, dreamy nighttime, to which we gladly succumb.
My work took me to many gardens, set in the butterscotch zones of summer,
As the music with its rhythmic beat, benefits from an accomplished drummer.
I loved being able to generate beauty, with the help of lavish, Mother Nature,
Whose colors are always perfectly matched and blended, through hush labor.
I enjoyed my own house's gardens, my pretty haven, of most adored flowers,
......