Did we hope for goodness
or did we manifest it by our own
ordinary acts of bravery
in standing still to abide
yet grew strong because
we dared stand still facing
whatever we had to face
Hope is ever a constant.....
Did we hope for goodness
or did we manifest it by our own
ordinary acts of bravery
in standing still to abide
yet grew strong because
we dared stand still facing
whatever we had to face
Hope is ever a constant.....
Young agile
Zigging and zagging
Love it's startled look
Hare
Cinquain is a short poem or Stanza of five lines
1. one word naming the subject
2.two words (adjectives) describing the subject
3.three words (verbs)describing the subjects' action
4.four words giving the writer's opinion of the subject
5.one word (noun) giving another name for the subject
A Leveret is a young hare and we have one living in our garden
at present and it is such a joy to watch it doing the rounds.
I love short verse....
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Why try at all?
Were we not born to love?
It rages in the end
bashing its saltwater tears
in great waves upon the unresponsive black rocks
of a shore so hostile, nothing will penetrate it
nothing will crumble it, not even in the end of time
Oh, how indifference kills us all.....
Look elsewhere then, flow up the shore
and soak into the sand
which receives so gladly
slurping it up as though there is no end to love
neither there is.
the anger has a purpose now,
soak the sand, leave the rocks
to wish for the soothing
of the salt water waves, they will
no longer come
climate change you know.....
PS I found this writing of 2008 in a book I found this morning looking for other things....like you do!
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to not know what we think we know
to see the wisdom of the tree
which lives fully empowered
by the earth its roots silently
nourishing not only itself
but its neighbors also
giving shelter freely to birds
shading big and little creatures
in its collected compost
so ancient a recycling
of its discarded and released leaves
of exhausted helpfulness
to absorb its silence
is to be content......
in the wild winds joining
their leaves and branches
in exuberant forgetfulness
that their limbs may be torn
thrown to the ground
their bark in such colourful
profusion on the earth below
making shelter for the little
creatures scuffling underneath
the silence and the mystery of it all......
mosquito whining now
sleep has gone walkabout
hand on the flyswat
elegantly limbed Blue gums
Golden on the side of the setting sun
their shadows giving deep resonance
to space and line
Weaving through, a Stockman
on a lightly stepping Golden horse
red Kelpie at heel, sheep mustered
homeward bound for a shower
Brandy and Dry , mutton dinner
cooked on a wood stove, wine
Perhaps a sweet jam roly
with Mrs Edwards fresh cream.....
Bed!