Red Rose -->

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Simple Beauty

Beautiful Woman

Beautiful woman,
come out and play,
reveal your inner treasures.

The sparkle in your eyes,
the natural swing in your walk,
you radiate excitement and enthusiasm.

You need no latest fashion,
No expensive hair cuts,
No blinding big accessories.

You glow in your passions,
passionate in your pursuits,
you know what you are made of.

You are not easily bothered,
by the mindless opinions of others,
you know very well where you want to go.

you are a joy to watch,
an inspiration to others,
your pure soul an endless marvel.

Beautiful woman,
let your brilliance shine through,
your eyes speak of true inner beauty.

Copyright © 2007 Fion Lim. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Taking a Cruise


Flowing and gliding

The flow of the blue, fast, unpredictable running water

The hold and the power it holds over your journey and your choices

The never ending journey, the journey of your life

The wind changing your direction, making the choices

Ever further drifting to an estuary of the river

The end of your journey, your cloud nine, your seventh heaven

The karma of your world, your dreamland, your last destination

Michael James Kennedy Findlay

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Changing Seasons

Changing seasons

As the leaves turn from green to oranges and reds,
I know that is the way the world tells us it is time for a change.

As the heat dissapears into cold,
we put away our summer toys,
and bring out ones to play with in the cold.

When you take in a deep breath,
there is a smell in the air.
and you can only smell it in fall and winter.

You know when the leaves turn from green to oranges and reds,
summer is over and that means fall and winter are comming.
You have been warned by the nature all around.

by Rylee 2008

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Queen of Autumn


She is arraigned in a brilliant robe brushed effortlessly by the palette of nature,
A crown of golden oak leaves rests atop her copper tresses,

Within her hands she carries a scepter of maple branches and proudly displays her garment in quiet regal stature,

Her subject's branches bow offering leaves in homage,
While the wind's sharp chill encircles her as she passes,

She gathers their leaves embracing them like a lover,
Inhaling their pungent scent,

And as she turns, she smiles unclasping her robe
as the wind engulfs her,
Releasing the beauty of Autumn

Wept For A Dream Destroyed


Freedom did we once enjoy
Now left weeping for a dream destroyed
The Great Spirit’s lands stolen from us
Treaties made and broken that were unjust
We wept for a dream destroyed

Forced to leave the lands we knew
Our heritage stolen, our hostility grew
Only wanted what had been rightfully ours for years
But still forced to walk the Trail of Tears
We wept for a dream destroyed

John Ross fought our annihilation for as long as he could
His devotion immense, his heart good
That didn’t matter to the president
We were still taken away from our residence
We wept for a dream destroyed

Many of us perished along the way
Walking death’s trail that swept us away
From all we cherished and revered so
It was to a reservation we were forced to go
We wept for a dream destroyed

Tears shed for a freedom we would not know again
Forced to give up all we had once been
Still we retained what was felt inside
Walked that damned trail with dignity and pride
We wept for a dream destroyed

Sherri L. Gibson, USA



I am like a tree -
my feet spread out to travel and embrace the gifts
and hardships
the world has in store for me.

I travel in suspension -
my growth is slow but my spirit is large.
I reach toward the sun in exultation -
my cries and whispers heard only in the wind.

I am vulnerable -
but do not appear so.
My fortress of presence provides protection for those that would rather
use others
for shade and shelter.

I dance in honor of my being -
I sway from side to side in the rhythm
of my own song.

I absorb all the sorrows,
joys, dreams, anger and triumphs
of those around me.
Twisting and turning to find my own way
towards enlightenment.

I am like a tree -
my growth is invisible
until my death
exposes my maturity and worth.

Ashley Page Bates

Red Sunset

Sunset Thinking

Do you ever watch the sunset
And just sit and think about things
Just you and the sky and darkness
Giving your thoughts some wings

Perhaps you’ve got some troubles
And don’t know what to do
Or you just plain need to get away
To spend a little time with you

Sunset beauty makes you feel as though
Your life has meaning after all
To see a sight so extraordinary
Makes you feel capable, strong and tall

It’s funny how flashes of color
Like a sunset or sunrise can inspire
It can calm your inner self a bit
It’s a scene you can never tire

The serenity gives you a chance
To put things in perspective
Life can be overwhelming at times
And a sunrise can be reflective

So when the sky lights up next time
Let your gaze do some drinking
Soak up all the amazing sights
And do some sunset thinking!

Marilyn Lott  

Pearls and Roses

Pearls and Roses

Your spoken words are roses fine and sweet,
The songs you sing are perfect pearls of sound.
How lavish nature is about your feet,
To scatter flowers and jewels both around.

Blushing the stream of petal beauty flows,
Softly the white strings trickle down and shine.
Oh! speak to me, my love, I crave a rose.
Sing me a song, for I would pearls were mine.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

I Have Tasted The Stars

I Have Tasted the Stars

I'm quite sure that before I was born,
I floated in space, alone and untethered.
I turned somersaults around the sun
it's not as hot as it looks
played leapfrog with asteroids,
and chased comets across the universe.
I have tasted the stars
and sipped moonlight.
A nebula was my pillow,
and sleep
oh, the innocent sleep
so sweetly in space.
I danced on Saturn's rings,
wild and free, uninhibited
because nobody's watching in space.
And I sang.

~ Sarah L. Pottenger ~

Apple Blossoms

Apple Blossoms

Of all the lovely blossoms
        That decorate the trees,
      And shower down their petals
        With every breath of breeze,
There is nothing so sweet or fair to me
As the delicate blooms of the apple tree.

      A thousand shrubs and flow’rets
        Delicious pleasure bring,
      But beautiful Pomona
        Must be the queen of spring;
And out of her flagon the peach and pear
Their chalices fill with essence rare.

      Oh, is it any wonder,
        Devoid of blight or flaw,
      The peerless blooms of Eden
        Our primal mother saw
In redolent beauty before her placed
So tempted fair Eve the fruit to taste?

      But woman’s love of apples,
        Involving fearful price,
      And Adam’s love for woman
        That cost him Paradise,
By the labor of hands and sweat of brow,
Have softened the curse to a blessing now.

      If so those pink-eyed glories,
        In fields and orchards gay
      Develop luscious fruitage
        By Horticulture’s way,
Then, sweet as the heart of rich legumes,
Shall luxury follow the apple blooms.

Hattie Howard

What is Ballet?

What is Ballet?

"What is ballet?" you asked!
Is it a sport?
or is it an art?
Can someone explain it well?
or is it impossible?
Truth is,
it is not a sport,
nor is it an art.
It is an unique combination of the two.
It is just as physically demanding as any other sport.
but moreover,
it is not complete without
the sense of art,
the sense of expression
and the sense of love.
And yet,
it cannot be explained,
it has to be danced!

By: Joany Macaroni



Time is an essence we take for granted
it passes us by, we don't realize it
Time is the past some wish to forget
The future of our lives we want to collect

We go through life regretting events
we want to replay them because of repent
When a moment goes by that we fail to take heed
That moment is gone we did not succeed

When we are old we absorb the meaning of time
The majority of our lives are gone we want our youth it's not a crime
When a loved one dies we want to be with them again
that is when you realize that their lives have come to an end

Make the most of the time you will never have again
Make the most of life's experiences in every way
and appreciate every minute of every hour of everyday

Rebecca L. West

Lonely River

Lonely river
You meander like a road
Stretching out into the great unknown
With solitary movement
You're compelled and you're enthralled
As though you're answering a distant call
Lonely river
Is there a place you're running to
Or is it something that you're running from
Is it hope that keeps you going
Is it faith that makes you strong
Lonely river, lonely river, running on
Lonely river
In the stillness of the night
Your restless nature keeps you raging on
Changing courses
Shallow waters, tangent streams
Lonely river, do you wonder what it means
Lonely river
I think I am a lot like you
Winding on in hopes to find the sea
And flooded by uncertainties
The current can be strong
But drifting towards our destinies
The arm of God is long
And I believe that through this journey
'Til we're finally home
Lonely river, we will never, run alone

Wayne Kirkpatrick
 Michael W. Smith

Pretty in Pink

Pink petals passing
Scents above so high
Painted porcelain perfection
Blossoms caress the sky
Swaying silent shroud
Suitors strolling by
Pink petals passing
Lover's gentle sigh
Pastel hues falling
Slow fluttering grace
Pink petals passing
Lining streams in lace
Pink petals passing
Smoothest transit by
Soft essence floating
In most subtle lullaby
Inducing springtime slumber
Upon a satin shore
Sailing with the current
Pink petals pass before
Mary Fumento  1999

Dancing in the Moonlight

Dancing In The Moonlight

 We get it on most every night
 When that old moon gets so big and bright
 It's a supernatural delight
 Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight
 Everybody here is out of sight
 They don't bark, and they don't bite
 They keep things loose, they keep things light
 Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight
 Dancin' in the moonlight
 Everybody's feelin' warm and right
 It's such a fine and natural sight
 Everybody's dancin' in the moonlight
We like our fun and we never fight
You can't dance and stay uptight
It's a supernatural delight
Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight
Dancin' in the moonlight
Everybody's feelin' warm and right
It's such a fine and natural sight
Everybody's dancin' in the moonlight
King Harvest 


Generation To Generation
In a house which becomes a home,
one hands down and another takes up
the heritage of mind and heart,
laughter and tears, musings and deeds.
Love, like a carefully loaded ship,
crosses the gulf between the generations.
Therefore, we do not neglect the ceremonies
of our passage: when we wed, when we die,
and when we are blessed with a child;
When we depart and when we return;
When we plant and when we harvest.
Let us bring up our children. It is not
the place of some official to hand to them
their heritage.
If others impart to our children our knowledge
and ideals, they will lose all of us that is
wordless and full of wonder.
Let us build memories in our children,
lest they drag out joyless lives,
lest they allow treasures to be lost because
they have not been given the keys.
We live, not by things, but by the meanings
of things. It is needful to transmit the passwords
from generation to generation.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Yellow Eyes

Yellow Eyes
Yellow eyes pierce
the dark night…
They watch me…
Track me…
Following my every
single move…
I am filled with fear,
and wonder also…
Who do these eyes
belong to?
An ancient creature
of the wild places,
without a doubt…
But what?
Yellow eyes,
yellow piercing eyes…
And then I know…
Still and silent,
the wolf watches us
more carefully,
then we watch him…
-- Copyright by Sloane J. 2007--



Drop a pebble in the water:
just a splash, and it is gone;
But there’s half-a-hundred ripples
Circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center,
flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling
where the end is going to be.

Drop an unkind word, or careless:
in a minute you forget;
But there’s little waves a-flowing,
and there’s ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart
a mighty wave of tears you’ve stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy
ere you dropped that unkind word.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness:
in a minute you forget;
But there’s gladness still a-swelling,
and there’s joy circling yet,
And you’ve rolled a wave of comfort
whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water
just by dropping one kind word.

~By James W. Foley~

Cat in the Moon

The Cat and the Moon

“The Egyptians have observed in the eyes of a cat, the increase of the moonlight.”
~ Edward Topsell ~

The cat has always been associated with the moon. Like the moon it comes to life at night, escaping from humanity and wandering over housetops with its eyes beaming out through the darkness.

Ancient Greeks believed that at the beginning of the world the sun and moon created all the animals. The sun created the lion, but it was the moon that brought forth the cat.

Sometimes the cat’s eyes were identified with the moon, changing as they do from crescent to round. They shine more fully at the full, and more dimly in the changing and wain. It is believed that not only is the cat more active after sunset, but the dilation and contraction of its pupils are the waxing and waning of the moon.

The eyes of cats are probably responsible for much of the spirituality and the magic that have been attributed to these animals. The cat shares with the snake an unblinking gaze, and its disconcerting habit of staring fixedly into human eyes has a compelling power which affects some people deeply. The pupils of their eyes shine in the darkness, and in half light some reflect a fiery glow.

Dancing in the Woods

Dancing In The Woods

Time is gonna take my mind
and carry it far away where I can fly
The depth of life will dim the temptation to live for you
If I were to be alone silence would rock my tears
’cause it’s all about love and I know better
How life is a waving feather
I’m dancing in the room as if I was in the woods with you
No need for anything but music
Music’s the reason why I know time still exists
Time still exists
Time still exists
Time still exists
“Dancing” by Elisa

Dark Horse

Dark Horse

Dark Horse!
Immortal guidon of restless nomads,
Sages weeping to grasp Thy wisdom,
Garnered truly through such lucid eyes.
Dark Horse!
Captured fleetingly by the Artist’s brush,
Stabled lovingly in Man’s treasured tomes,
Forever living and never dying.
Dark Horse!
Pounding down through time;
Solitary witness to the pursuits of men,
And privy to the realms of Angels.
© by Barbara Dunn Reeves

Forest Flowers

Forest Flowers

That delicate forest flower
With scented breath, and look so like a smile,
Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould,
An emanation of the indwelling Life,
A visible token of the upholding Love,
That are the soul of this wide universe.
William Cullen Bryant

Green-eyed Lady

Green-Eyed Lady

Green Eyed Lady, lovely lady
Strolling slowly towards the sun
Green eyed lady ocean lady
Soothing every wave that comes
Green eyed lady, passion’s lady
dressed in love she lives for life to be
Green eyed lady feels like I never see
Setting suns and lonely lovers free
by Sugarloaf

The Pink Peacock

The Pink Peacock

There he goes with his head up high,
Proudly thinking, “No creature is so beautiful as I.”
He struts about with an arrogant air,
Satisfied with his beauty so fair.
The peacock thinks himself to be without flaw,
Thinks that all who see him should be in awe.
His Creator has given him a plumage rare,
Causing all that see him to stop and stare.
The peacock has a flaw not plain to him,
A flaw to his eyes very dim.
He arrogantly prances about with very ugly feet,
Proud of his beauty, but deceived-like so many we meet.
He’s not altogether what he thinks he is,
To see himself as he is would be great bliss.
But he struts about with blinded eye,
Thinking, “No creature is so beautiful as I.”
The peacock teaches a lesson true,
That there are flaws in me and you.
That we are not so mighty and so high,
That we should see ourselves with the humble eye.
--Gene Griffin--

The Girl Within


What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman not very wise,
Uncertain of habit with faraway eyes.
I'm a small child of ten with a mother and father,
Brothers and sisters who love one another.
A bride in her twenties--my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vow I promised to keep.
A woman of thirty, my young grow fast,
Bound to each other with a love that should last.
At forty, my sons have grown and have gone,
But my man is beside me, to see I don't mourn.
At fifty, once more babies play around my knees,
Again we know children, my husband and me.
I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel,
'Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, and I remember the pains,
And I am living and loving life all over again.
I think of all the years too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last,
So open your eyes nurses, open and see,
Not a crabbed old woman; look closer--see me!
--Author Unknown--

Painted Pony

Painted Pony

Song For The Horses: Native American Chant Style

If we forget our way, we have forgotten

the horse is not bridled by the rainbow anymore.

Running on the ancient paths, we remember who we are.

We are strangers in our own land

but we live in the Land’s ways

and make it our own again.

Oh beautiful horse, I see you and say:

rustle the grasses with your presence,

cloud the sky with your eyes,

cloak the mountain with your hair,

beat the rainbeat with your hooves,

take the rainbow in trade for us,

for we, your children

are left behind.

excerpts from poem by Sheri Rene Watson
Red Rose