Why Wolves Howl

Between a sentinel of trees, in the deepest of twilight an image lurks down moon lit path. A chill in the air ruffles thick fur. He is alone. Each step leaves paw prints in the dirt as evidence of his presence, under a dangling moon. He finds a knoll. There he sits waiting as timeContinue reading “Why Wolves Howl”

No One

… just me “A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9 I’ve waited seasons,through times of bitter coldmonths of sweltering heat. As the red-wings return,the flight of Canadians fly toward southern lands. I’ve waited seasons,through times of marketing changes, changes, changes. As publishers pick people,writers with a popular standingand social following,Continue reading “No One”

Skylark

A quivering lyricplummeting, plunging;trilling tune toward meadow nest! A warble in wind tumbling toward field;feathers rumbling,trill lingers. A trumpeter’s tunemelodious melody;true herald of bright skies A caroler’s call,seized then snatched;swallowed in firmament.Skylark higher, higher still! “Your lovingkindness, Oh Lord, reaches to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the skies.” Psalms 36:5 Posted for https://dversepoets.com/ A 44Continue reading “Skylark”

The Nature of Things

  I drench my pillow with salty tears, as night shadows loiter – slowly lurk; till twinkling stars map promising hope.   Down woodland lane and sturdy oaks, past thick meadow spills new growth, toward endless surf and eternal sands;   all so much greater than I am. There I whisper a longing prayer; God’sContinue reading “The Nature of Things”

Dirge for a Tree

my camera’s lens captures unusual qualities scoured by flood and drought’s full vengeance a hundred trees, precious trees, now stand dying lush woodland slipped away, no longer speaks is dying why is it the present holds hand with faults of past qualities ripping with revenge, pouring payback and venting vengeance? wind whipping loose bark fromContinue reading “Dirge for a Tree”

Garden Sweat

Today, sweat is upon my brow cooled by cloudy breeze. Russian olive trees, in full bloom. wafts ancient scent in cords.   Cake-like dirt clings on my knees, joints ache from digging. While crows call, call, call… and last of cricket frogs simply sing.   Their melody is of comfort for they’ve found a mate;Continue reading “Garden Sweat”