Nature's Tease

NATURE'S TEASE

Tease me again
With your shimmering body
Glide past me now
In glowing delight

Glints of turquoise
Sparkle and shine;
Emerald and amethyst
Jewels so divine

Through your wings
I see beauty
Simplicity, grace
Hovering near me
Not a moment to waste

For in a breath
You shall be gone
Lovely dragonfly
Ah yes, I've been
Forewarned!

Nancy Ellen Crossland

Shredded Heart

I've never created an animation on this site so I thought I'd try it out.

The poem is by a young girl. Ahhh, the bittersweet memories of young love. 

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Shredded Heart

My poor, shredded heart
Is weak from loss
It's ripped part

I'm so sick of falling
For the wrong guy
I always end up bawling

I guess you dont' love me back
What? Couldn't you tell?
It's painted clear in black.

So, my torn up heart,
May just give up,
It's sick of falling apart,
After putting itself together again.

Lauren

Woodland

Woodland

There is a serene and settled majesty to woodland
scenery that enters into the soul and delights and elevates it,
and fills it with noble inclinations.

 

Washington Irving (1783-1859)

At Sunset

At Sunset

To-night the west o'er-brims with warmest dyes;
Its chalice overflows
With pools of purple colouring the skies,
Aflood with gold and rose;
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine,
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.

I seem to hear a bar of music float
And swoon into the west;
My ear can scarcely catch the whispered note,
But something in my breast
Blends with that strain, till both accord in one,
As cloud and colour blend at set of sun.

And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,
As ashes follow flame.
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies
Call tenderly my name;
It was as if some priestly fingers stole
In benedictions o'er my lonely soul.

I know not why, but all my being longed
And leapt at that sweet call;
My heart outreached its arms, all passion thronged
And beat against Fate's wall,
Crying in utter homesickness to be
Near to a heart that loves and leans to me.

Emily Pauline Johnson

Ghostly Wolf

He emerged silently
soft tread, wispy moves
The wind blew
No trace
save a track
in the dandelion field.

© Barbara Baskin 2011