Abandoned Icon

At the edge of swamp, marsh and bog
Nested amid rambunctious honeysuckle vines
Tipped onto its broken side
Locked door pried open
Racks empty of bottles and desolate
Moneybox forlorn and bankrupt
Machine once bright and slick
Red and white and shining chrome
Not the commercial declaration dull
Broken, abandoned and rusted through
Still proclaiming the message
Drink Coca Cola.

Glorious Morning

Morning has come
Wrapping Himself with dawn
Shifting and lifting His glory
From the distant horizon.

He looks up
Smiles and winks
Sharing a secret
With His Father, Creator
Common mortals cannot know.

He gathers round Him
Robes of verdant green
Tree and flower, hill and heather
Aqua blue of ocean
River, stream, creek and ocean.

The rocks and hills sound out
The whole earth shouts and sings

Hallelujah, Morning, Glory
Hallelujah, Glory, Morning Glory
Morning, Glory, Morning has come.

Marsh Marigolds

Marsh Marigolds

Budding...

Incongruous 'midst 
the dead and fallen cattails.

Suppertime

Nothing better than hot biscuits,
Warm from an ancient wood stove
Earthy, ashy smell of good eats
Slow baked country ham
Scrubbed and boiled
Laid in a cast iron pot
Simmering in thick apple cider
Sweetens the salty flavor
Boil and mash taters, cook beans
Cool that bucket of cream topped
Frothy Jersey milk in the springhouse.
Then ring the bell, sing their names
And call the family in...
Suppertime.

Homestead

The steady beat of hammer on nail
Hollow sound of well cured planks
Zithery sawing of timbers
A promise of hearth and home
A dream of warmth and protection
A roof to shelter
A floor to cover with braided rugs
And laughing youngin's.

Dragon wings

I wish that I could fly
Reach out with dragon wings
Sweep air under my body
Soar, not like bird or bat
But like a leviathon of the sky
Creature of fantasy.

Forgotten Harvest

Dusty shelves filled and bowing
Dank and dark, hidden away
Waiting, patient, for the need
Loaded with harvests past
Overflowing with preserved plenty
Left alone, unattended
Abandoned fruit jars
Mason jars full
String beans, corn, tomatoes
Juices, fruits, sweet and plenty
Yet forgotten from another generation
A splendor of color
Sweet and savory melody of taste
Badges of hard labor and caring.
Untended and alone.

Lone Robin

In the distance
On a wire
A lone robin sings
Glorious morning
Glad song
Spring.