Beneath the Moon

Beneath the summer moon,
hidden bats fill empty street.
Flap their leathery wings, meet
the darken shadows in twilight.

Silent flight, soar without tune
as inky blackness settles land.
Silhouette of massive trees stand
crowded limbs gather in my sight;

Swooping in circles tightly hewn
by brazen bat’s erratic moves;
their signature etched grooves
in hushed moonlit summer night.

Hope is not a message strewn
by bat who rules the evening sky
or milky moon which shines on high;
it’s God who designed bat at flight!

It is He who made the summer moon,
the music, melody and nature’s tune.
With speech the earth was first hewn
and stars across the universe strewn.

God placed bat’s wings at twilight,
to gather at His will, before His sight.
He reveals hidden things of night;
and waits for men’s souls to take flight.

“He reveals the deep and hidden things; He knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells with Him.”

Daniel 2:22
It’s been a dark time around the world. Like the bat, COVID seemed to creep up on the souls of men. It has etched in our lives change. Some from loss and others in remembering the laughter of loved ones.

A year later we continue to remember…

P. Wolf, Poet & Author of Jemi’s Noble Quest


Days grow weary from our burdens
we look for renewed strength, mind and
as winds of time toss then tremble
yearning for souls to freely yield,
to be
renewed by wings from Heaven;
from earthly things which encumber;
in the things of God

“Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall. But those who wait upon the LORD will renew their strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:30-31

I had so much fun with this poetry form earlier this week and thought I would try it again! Waltmarie poetic form was invented by Candace Kubinec.Here are the guidelines for writing the Waltmarie:
• 10 lines
• Even lines are two syllables in length, odd lines are longer (but no specific syllable count)
• Even lines make their own mini-poem if read separately

I must be long winded, because I need 14 lines to complete a thought. So this was a twisted on this form. Remember the even lines created a hidden message on their own, if read separately.

P. Wolf, poet & author of “Jemi’s Noble Quest”

A Thaw

Sunset on a warm winter day

Today it finally happened
across melting landscape
thick, trickling, tense
cold snow
shrinking from mounds to
slush under creaking snowshoes;

“He sends out His command to the earth;

His word runs very swiftly.

He gives snow like wool;

He scatters the frost like ashes;

He casts out His hail like morsels;

Who can stand before His cold?

He sends out His word and melts them;

He causes His wind to blow, and the waters flow.”

Psalm 147:15-18
A little poem posted at:

Reasoning Water

Waves lap upon the shores
like dogs thirsty after a run;
they rise then fall. Tumbling
days, weeks, finally years;
as sands of time trickle truth.

Water is life, breaths life in
moderate wandering ways.
It’s foe, a piece of parched 
earth dangling, drained and
dizzy from its unending thirst.

Weather rules day then night;
rain, sleet, ice, or snow grasp
gathering at will, builds walls,
halts life while still smirking;
for all man’s worth, he waits.

Water baptizes, transfers trader
to one tested by his faithfulness
now following Someone much
greater, who rules the waters
with a mighty, firm hand of power.

Waves of hope rise, tower above
like life giving sun at early dawn;
Living Water’s sacrifice brings new
life where desert land springs forth
new seed there, blooms in breeze.

P. Wolf; poet & author of Jemi’s Noble Quest

“Jesus answered and said to her, “Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst. But the water that I shall give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.”

John 4:13-14
Writing on water for:

Chilled Earth

With the creaking of dead wood,
the forest speaks harsh tones
while wild winds BLOW;
making whistling, whistling,
whistling screechy whispers;
shifting shadows in the trees.
Then it slowly stalks its prey…

Crunch, crunch, crunch
goes each solitary steady step,
into drifts of freshly fallen
flakes all unique, yet mound
and towered high stately piles
which obscure, ruin my view
drifts of snow in frozen earth.
Its growl invades the earth…

Stiff, so stiff the landscape 
of glistening white swallowed
whole in blustery weather waiting, 
waiting for noonday sun to raise
digits of zero or above; crippled
fingers rest in empty birds nest.
It wildly shakes its mane…

It’s in other things I find my rest,
where warmth fills frigid places.
There the sun streams soundly
in delicate, frosty window pane;
and filters across the written Word 
which thaws the cold,cold heart.
It is He who brings about new earth!

P. Wolf, poet & author of Jemi’s Noble Quest

“ Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea.”

Revelations 21:1
Poetry response to earthweal weekly challenge: Already Dead

Give Me Daffodils

Photo by David Jakab on

As scented roses make center stage,
daffodils cry out from deep under
frosty layers of white wintry snow!
It is the middle of February and
each hour sings of love unfolds.

Chick-a-Dees crowd filled dangling
feeders and are welcoming with song;
my south window smudged with
grandkid’s sweet sticky finger prints
become a splendid blessing to the day.

Bleak is the land lingering before me,
empty are the jagged limbs of trees
once filled with delights of life;
where lush emerald leaves fluttered
with filled nests of speckled blue eggs.

Now, the very last meal of the day
makes haste as the early sun sets
against a dull, dreary wintry sky;
yet grandkids dressed in polar suits
climb atop high mounds of icy snow.

Stay the night my dear little loves,
for spring is near and arms ache
to carried bouquets of fresh daffodils;
waiting for children’s cheery laughter
to float on mild breezes; to trees dressed

in all of spring’s lush glory!
For now I’ll warm chubby hands,
stir their hot creamy chocolate, chat
about their wonderful winter play of
forts and caves built atop the daffodils.

Not arrows from Cupid’s heart,
but something a great deal more
are my tender off-spring. Benefits
from the winter season of my life;
their visits a scent of lingering joy!

P. Wolf, poet & author of Jemi’s Noble Quest

“Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,

The fruit of the womb is a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,

So are the children of one’s youth.”

Psalms 127:3-4

The Lion

What Lion’s mane can shake the earth
or fill the air with an enormity of fear?

Whose roar ricochet past barren plain
and circles slowly back to all the earth?

When is man just a man while beast
or brawn buries burdened paws in dirt?

Where is the One, King of Kings, who rules
and He is Maker of both man and beast?

He sits upon His white throne and feeds
the mighty lion and the humble lamb!

You make darkness, and it is night, In which all the beasts of the forest creep about. The young lions roar after their prey, And seek their food from God.”

Psalms 104:20-21
Writing poetry at: earthweal weekly challenge: White Lions

February’s Thaw

Soften snow swelters
beneath my snow shoed feet,
as sun glistens then stirs 
each brisk February season.

It’s a time of sharing hearts,
of throwing kisses in the wind,
as length of days chatter
my drowsy woodland awakens.

Icicles drip, drip, drip rhythmic
tapping upon snow, echoes the
woodpecker a symphony of sounds
down lazy land, pastoral paths.

I still my stride in hopes of more
a robin, a bumblebee, a violet;
but only red tailed fox sneaks
across my winter wonderland.

It is said, February thaw melts a
frozen heart which beats for spring;
perhaps, the earth itself groans
then chills for a bit longer

all waiting in “time out” thinking
about its care endowed to each;
hearts blown in by spring breezes
grateful to gather thawed crocus.

Poem inspired by:

Then God said, “Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs and seasons, and for days and years;

Genesis 1:14

Beasts in Jemi’s World

From the book “Jemi’s Noble Quest

Similar to the cliffs of Dor

“The fog hugged the earth as morning vapor intensified the salty air. Jemi breathed in the scent. She could not move as she took in the moment”

Jemi’s Noble Quest

In the first chapter of “ Jemi’s Noble Quest”, her adventurous spirit is revealed in activities of her daily life.

She looked across The Great Sea searching the horizon for Leviathan, a monstrous beast with terrible teeth, scales tightly sealed, sparks of fire shooting forth from his mouth and neck of immense strength.

Jemi’s Noble Quest

Description from the Bible is clear on this creature. It was very much like what we know as a dragon. However, it’s habitat was the sea.

The powerful hips of Behemoth and his bulky tail, like a vast cedar, brought mystery to her somewhat dull life in Dor. These creatures were seldom talked about in her little fishing village; for the people had forgotten the legends of these immense creatures.

Jemi’s Noble Quest

Some believe Behemoth was a type of elephant and ours believe it was a hippopotamus. More than likely, it was a beast like none we’ve ever known.

“Can you draw out Leviathan with a hook, or snare his tongue with a line which you lower?” Job 41:1

Call of the Bee

Call me to lie down in fragrance.”

D. Margoshes

Echoing past each drop
upon my rusty, tin roof
the scent of spring rain;

quiet honey bee,
no longer hears the sound
buried in the dirt;

as wild roses bloom
their fragile petals fall;
on the soggy earth.

P. Wolf, poet & author of Jemi’s Noble Quest; available on Amazon

Last year, 40% of honeybee colonies in the US died.

Bee hives cannot sustain themselves without worker bees and would eventually die. This combination of events resulting in the loss of a bee colony has been called Colony Collapse Disorder.

Scientists point to several causes behind the problem, including global warming, habitat loss, parasites and a class of beekilling insecticides known as neonicotinoids (or neonics)

Worker Bees: these are all female and their roles are to forage for food (pollen and nectar from flowers), build and protect the hive, clean and circulate air by beating their wings. Workers are the only bees most people ever see flying around outside the hive.
Written for…