The Ides of Autumn
The last of summer will unfold
The leaves have turned from green to gold
The sun shines with a reddish hue
To greet the bluish winter view
The autumn rains on the earth below
The days are shorter as they ebb and flow
The grey topped waves more frenzied clash
The stormier sea on the coastline crash
The children's call as they go back to school
The parents once more in the household rule
The prepping time for holiday cheer
The planning and saving for the end of year
The nations filled with signs of fall
The traditional actions of us all
The people united in human ways
The sounds and actions of autumn days
Scenes of the Seasons
Spring has arrived the trees are green
Sprinkled with tiny blossoms of life anew
gossamer of dewy sheen
The flora's offspring in colorful hue
Summer brings heat and light
The flowers on
the saplings bloom
The hot winds blow through day and night
Floral fragrances fill the room
with clouds and rain
Trees are clothed in a fiery gown
The days get shorter as daylight wanes
Oak's golden tresses
come tumbling down
Lastly frigid Winter makes its presence felt
The leaves are gone, the branches crack
covers all boughs in a pure white pelt
Seasons follow seasons right on track
Whispering willows, with graceful dance , bowing
to the ground
In obeisance to the brooks, with their rippling music sound
Through the branches of the oak, night
is darkening the track
As shades of sunset trickle through, from golden to night black
All the creatures in the
wood, preparing for sweet rest
In the campers lighted tent, softly glows the human nest
Velvet darkness sprinkled
with stars, blankets the earth below
Silver shafts of moonlight, embalm with ghostly glow
The brown owl heads
towards its home, before the dawn of day
Red shafts of sun soon filter through, and shadows fade away
light the birdsong floats, throughout a misty sky
All the living start to toil, their needs to satisfy
THE STORM (Hurricane Iwa)
palms swayed in the tropical breeze
Oahu, Hawaii, the gathering place.
Crimson and gold sunset painted the sky
rolled up silver beaches, an unhurried pace
Just before sunset in nineteen eighty-two
Eve of Thanksgiving, November
The sky became darker, with menacing clouds
Strong winds whipped up a tumultuous sea
down, scattered on streets
High winds howling, torrential rain,
Work place flooded, stores all shut
my world gone insane.
Water is off, gas stations closed.
Flying debris, windows taped over
Shack and storage blown
Gathered in basement prepared for cover
Many loose objects soar in the air
Incessant rain seems never-ending
Regal trees their branches torn bare
Yielding palms before the wind bending
Suddenly silence, the storm's eye
Cessation of sound, eerie and still
Time suspended for momentous duration
Again the frenzied tempest
wakes, shrieking and shrill
The howling crescendo tears at the soul.
Then it is over as fast as begun.
day is Thanksgiving,
And with the dawn, we see once more the golden sun.
We prayed outside our home and also within
With God's protection not one flower pot fell
Our roof, home and family intact
Although encircled by a turbulent
KATRINA FROM AFAR
As in the days of Noah, much evil still survives.
Anarchy surrounding, the Serpent soul revives.
It feasts on misery and despair,
Uprooted homes and damaged lives
Crisis is surmounting, desperation takes a rise.
All around is devastation, can none heed the anguished cries.
Many wonder what to cling to. Where's the anchor, in disguise?
Only God can pull them through this, all they need is lifted eyes.
Only He brings peace from chaos, only He can give reprise.
Only He can heal the suffering. If they would only lift their eyes.