-24.06.20_02:40-

Angels are bowling
In heaven

Dawning

light came dancing through the trees

on twigs, branches, vibrant leaves

as day dawned delightfully:

just me, my garden,

and loose-leaf tea…O’Prunty 6/21/2020

-09.06.20_21:50-

They trill in their thousands
Briefly over powered by
Bullfrog or car,
Singing ever louder
A carpet of sound
Growing ever closer
Pressing inside of my
Skull.

Little tree gone

We had a tree growing
out of the front wall
which I’m sorry to say had to go
For though it was fine
its roots had entwined
and had threatened the wall, don’t you know

On Beauty

The witching hour passed me by
Dawn scaled the eastern sky
Laced in lavenders, pinks, and blues
The beauty of Nature came shining through

And all that kept me wide awake
Pales in comparison for beauties sake
For what is Life void of beauty?
But a mundane existence complied with duty

So, take a breath, glance around
There’s always Beauty to be found
And may your eyes be filled as mine
Reflecting Beauty, surreal, sublime

That sweet, sweet slumber finds you once more
Content with Life as never before.

O’Prunty
4/23/17

-23.03.20_18:06-

Stream clattering down,
Metallic plinks

Mountain Morning

The mountains, lustrous at dawn.
Below, here in the valley,
the droplets of last night’s rain
shimmer on blades and twigs, their
molecules respond to the sun
like a woman rising to
meet a beloved’s touch.

Wait.
Something is going on up there
on the deep-packed slope.
A whirling figure of white, of mist,
there, yet almost not;
A snow giant,
like a tranced dervish, twirls in
the morning’s new energies—
it whirls violently,
fingerless, wispy hands thrust
high into the cold blue,
200 feet tall, or more.
A mile, maybe. It’s hard
to tell from here, as it’s
insubstantial. Massive.

In Stanmer Woods

In Stanmer Woods the trees stand tall
and sheltered down below
I stand as if on tippy-toe
as I’m quietly in the know
For up above the wind blows free
with frigid winter blast
yet down upon the bracken floor
there’s stillness here to last

The Curvature of Water

And here, in the kingdom of clouds,
vast continents of mist
dwarf the mountains,
lumber lightly
in from the ocean,
float improbably, silently.
They sometimes, when the air is cold,
leak acres of crystal
in the high wilderness of fir and grizzly,
burying the trees and crags of the
inaccessible mystery in white.

And here, over the empire of emeralds,
they sweep and swell and
break apart and spill out
mighty rivers and silver lakes,
wash the air clean and
sift down through my willow tree,
bit by drop, sink from sight and
hurry to refill the ocean.

Caterpillar dawn

Caterpillar dawn
creeps across the ocean

Bye bye Blackbird

Last spring the laurel hedge by my window was empty
No chirruping, calling, no rustling of glossy leaves
No fledglings edging off the nest onto twigs and then the adjacent fence
No wobbling and frantic flapping as parents patiently cajole
No triumphant flights to the Rose bushes
Only to tumble to the grass
As the chosen twig was too thin

Too hot, too hot

Like tracks in the snow
Little lives go
In our melting

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

https://thecheesesellerswife.wordpress.com/

Diamonds II

Nature’s hand came calling
in our garden yesterday
Left little diamond clusters
for us as if to say
This was its way of saying
that there’s beauty everywhere
and if we just look around us
we will find it waiting there

-07.11.19_00:59-

Bitten by the cold,

Abrupt temperature change,

-03.10.19_00:29-

Quickly across the street
Reddish-brown flash

Ghost Ocean

Waves throw up on the shore
remnants of ocean lives
tangles of plastic
debris from both sides
of a blurring boundary.
Revealing hints of the diversity underneath
and of the death we impose.

Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond

https://thecheesesellerswife.wordpress.com/

 

Tri-haiku XX (Circular Green)

This circular green
Grown, cut back, abundant now
as summer takes hold

This circular green
A comfort true and fragrant
These summer senses

This circular green
With me, part of me, in me
I am in summer

Sunday in Spring

Two fields over, Rooks argue
a raucous parley that
goes on and on and on
while other birds sing prettily

NATURE’S LIGHT SHOW

By Charles Robert Lindholm

The
Lightning Strikes
In The Distance,

A Light Show With
Thunder

Copyright © 2019 Charles Robert Lindholm, The Reluctant Poet
All Rights Reserved – 05.21.2019 @ 4:15  p.m.

Please Come Visit My Archive!!

-03.05.19_20:55-

They call from out beyond my

First Bluebells

Saw my first bluebells
in the sunshine today
Quite close to the river
down Old Shoreham way

Little Yellow

Little yellow dandelions
growing wildly there
And yes, I know that they are weeds
but I don’t really care

Stonehouse

Brown is the ground
Blue is the sky
High is the peak
Steeply I rise.

PLUNDERING THE EARTH

By Charles Robert Lindholm

I Often Wonder

Why It Is Man Has No Shame

HAIKU: AS SKIES TURN GRAY

By Charles Robert Lindholm And Karen Meredith-Lindholm

The Winds Blow Cold As

Robin in the fig tree

What are the words?
Bright, cheery red, bob-bob-bobbing?

-02.11.18_22:37-

A waterfall
Pours down

The Bull

Went for a walk up on Mill Hill
and met some scary sheep
But although we had due warning
it was the bull that made us weep

For he was really jolly big
as nervously we trod
around him fairly gingerly
on Sussex chalkland sod