After a long night of sleep,

That was immersed in darkness deep.

Here comes happily frolicking,

The beautiful dawn of awakening.

The crimson and tangerine rays arise,

And look how they fill up the beholder's eyes,

With hope, optimism and merriment.

The heavenly sight of plants dancing to the morning breeze,

Spreading their fresh earthly scent. 

The birds filling in for t...

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The sun rises
watched it more than once
listen to birds
sing their songs
the sound of rustling
leaves
in the song of the wind
the smell 
damp 
and close to the ground
branches creaking
from the weight of 
animals
all alone
I've watched the sunrise
watched it many times
yet this time
as the sun crests
the mountain ever yonder
I hear the footsteps
light and crisp
sure but unsure
...

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Indebted

I took to watching slow dying sunsets

Marking the passing of the dawdling day

The trees casting their stoic silhouettes

Counting the golden currency each ray

bestows upon my mood and mental health

keeping the braying doubts and fears at bay

Accumulating natures gift of wealth

hoarding value like a miser stores gold

a solar bank that aids the commo...

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A world of desperation. 

The face and the faceless. 

Indescribable yet on the tip of my tongue.

Impecability holds the key to power.

I stare out over the city on my park bench throne.

The morning hours calm my mind. 

Crows speak in their own tongue. 

I reflect on a night of dreaming. 

The number is 4. 

Time to let go of what I can no longer carry. 

My saving grace is ...

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This poem was written after a day exploring Omaha Beach, one of the D-Day invasion beaches of Normandy.

Aurora

Before the dawn the north wind rails

at electric curtains of purple, acid green;

soft and terrible sails

that drape the stars,

flare bright as crystaline arctic nights.

Shall I walk far through silver beech

to reach hibernating huntsmen? Snow-shoed,

can I f...

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In the darkness it was a shadow

Highlighted by the edges of the rising sun

Where in-between it began to gleam

As the son stuck its fingers through the seams

With her eyes on

The horizon

Watching

The dusk of the night

Meeting

The don of the day

And with its light

It ended twilight

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Copernicus’ Commentariolus

The sun will never rise again,

although its early morning stain

still paints the heavens with a hue

of orange, red and purple. Few

will listen to my sad refrain.

I studied long, no doubts remain.

Though saying so risks Papal chain

for claiming this heresy true.

The sun will never rise again.

Look to the skies a...

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