Tears running down and down
Snow melt rivers turning into rapids
Seasons change
Hearts change
Spring blizzards crush early flowers
Jack Frost is not ready to slip into the floes
Not until he has his last laugh
But even he cannot hold sway on the turning of the wheel
Saturday, March 28, 2009
DREAM 102
I dreamed of you last night again
You were in my bed our arms and legs entwined
Listening to the rain outside my window
My long brown hair spiraling across your chest
As I listened to your heart
Amazing how clear a dream can be
You were in my bed our arms and legs entwined
Listening to the rain outside my window
My long brown hair spiraling across your chest
As I listened to your heart
Amazing how clear a dream can be
Monday, March 23, 2009
Camping in Springville
Camped underneath the stately cottonwood tree
Covered with new buds and awaiting spring
Splotches of sunshine fell on the meadow grass
While we pitched our tent
The hills were covered with the purple of lupines
Yellow mustard and white forget-me-nots
Spotting the occasional wild turkey
The river chilly from the snow melt
Mario catches a bass
When he cleaned it he found a live crawdad inside
The redbud trees were blooming
Tiny heart shaped leaves were just sprouting
The archers wandered up to the hills
To look for ground squirrels and things to plink at
The sound of hammer on metal ringing through the air
From the blacksmith's workshop
We had two spring days and one winter day
The pelting rain soaking our tent and canopy
While we rushed to pack up and head back to the city
My clothes and shoes soaked from slogging through the mud and rain
Powdery snow now dusting the hilltops
As we waved goodbye to old friends and new
Covered with new buds and awaiting spring
Splotches of sunshine fell on the meadow grass
While we pitched our tent
The hills were covered with the purple of lupines
Yellow mustard and white forget-me-nots
Spotting the occasional wild turkey
The river chilly from the snow melt
Mario catches a bass
When he cleaned it he found a live crawdad inside
The redbud trees were blooming
Tiny heart shaped leaves were just sprouting
The archers wandered up to the hills
To look for ground squirrels and things to plink at
The sound of hammer on metal ringing through the air
From the blacksmith's workshop
We had two spring days and one winter day
The pelting rain soaking our tent and canopy
While we rushed to pack up and head back to the city
My clothes and shoes soaked from slogging through the mud and rain
Powdery snow now dusting the hilltops
As we waved goodbye to old friends and new
Labels:
blacksmith,
camping,
nature,
pastural,
poem,
poetry,
snow,
springville,
turkey
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
After the Storm
The day dawned and I was still here
I had survived the emotional war
Next time I may not come back from the abyss
While I was sleeping last night I stopped breathing
I woke up abruptly gasping for air
It's stress I tell myself
Fallout from the last three days
I'm not so worried today
I feel better overall
Even though I have a terrible migraine
Still better than yesterday though
The sun is shining today
The warmth feels good even though I have to keep my eyes shut
Blue eyes are sensitive or so I hear
I had survived the emotional war
Next time I may not come back from the abyss
While I was sleeping last night I stopped breathing
I woke up abruptly gasping for air
It's stress I tell myself
Fallout from the last three days
I'm not so worried today
I feel better overall
Even though I have a terrible migraine
Still better than yesterday though
The sun is shining today
The warmth feels good even though I have to keep my eyes shut
Blue eyes are sensitive or so I hear
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Selective Vision
How could I have been so obsessed with you to the point that I didn't even see it coming?
How could I have assumed you wouldn't wander off the minute I turned my back?
Oh yes there were clues, but then aren't there always?
It is only human to have selective vision.
To only see what I wanted to see.
How could I have assumed you wouldn't wander off the minute I turned my back?
Oh yes there were clues, but then aren't there always?
It is only human to have selective vision.
To only see what I wanted to see.
Labels:
blog,
heartbreak,
poetry,
selective,
vision
WALLFLOWER
I am awake long past the time I should be awake
I think about the futility of life
And how fragile it is
How a few days without food or sleep or water can ruin us
How we are caught up in our own illusions
How we are perpetually lonely no matter how we try to cling to others
They have their own drama to live
Their own storyline to play out
We can dance with them for awhile but then the dance moves on
Spinning out of control and I am once again standing alone in a dark corner
I think about the futility of life
And how fragile it is
How a few days without food or sleep or water can ruin us
How we are caught up in our own illusions
How we are perpetually lonely no matter how we try to cling to others
They have their own drama to live
Their own storyline to play out
We can dance with them for awhile but then the dance moves on
Spinning out of control and I am once again standing alone in a dark corner
Friday, March 06, 2009
My Poetry on Hubpages
Hubpages has a new system for categorizing articles. So now I'm going through all my poetry on that site bit by bit and adding both my blog RSS feed and an appropriate category. It took me a bit to find where the right categories were hidden. They are under writing, then you can use the pull down menu to go to poetry and then to what type of poetry like haiku or sestina. I also noticed that once you do an edit, the page won't reload until you add a category. Feel free to read my poetry and how-to articles over on hubpages.
Twila Reid Park on a Friday
Fat men in red shirts playing Frisbee golf
An electric blanket drying over a picnic table
A perfectly good playground with no one in it
An electric blanket drying over a picnic table
A perfectly good playground with no one in it
Labels:
f.z. harper,
hubpages.com,
life,
poem,
poetic muse,
poetry,
real
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