Nature Poems (1,977)

Touch your face.
Eyes are making love.
With a mind of their own.
Fingers glide to your lips
Limp, they ever so lightly,
Brush that full pouting lower lip.
Relaxed, it moves like
A Force come over it.
So light, all you could feel
Was your lip moving.
easy. slow.
when its over, it recoils back
To where it was.

You dont know if these
Seconds
Are minutes.

A face that still hides
Beholds a mask of mystery
Silent until such time
It decides to speak
Howling like the wind
Sirens of the wilderness
When leaves will rustle
In the quiet, still calm
Synapses on high alert
Traces the scent in the tracks
Eyes focused like laser beams
Scanning into dark places
Hunger's bitter masquerade
Success after a long chase
Leaner, meaner, quicker
Pacing with measured strides
Timing, leaping, lunging, striking
Predation is only survival


(c) Yankee4you 2017

Cloaked in thick mist, wait dawn
Sunshine heats, so land is born
Gradual clearing, visually behold
Defined valley, kiwi farming gold

Where water lies, heavy mist covers
Dispelled by sunshine, protective lover
Keeps mystique, romantically alive
In sleeping darkness, life thrives

Inlet of harbor, river-valley-runs
Waiting dawn, when rays of sun
Engulfed by dense, ghost-like-shroud
Keeps land safe, later stands proud

A secret land, where floating mist
Wispy shimmers, as rivers twist
Waiting sunshine, summers day
When land revealed, in nature's way

I sat for a millennium trapped
Under the shallow depths
Only the last 10 thousand years
Exposed to light and wind and rain
One by one my tiny grains flecked
Away like husks blown about
Making many tiny sand on a beach
Washing up shifting moving
Slightly with each passing tide
Little by little I wear away
Only once was hidden and whole
Wet and dark and shiny
Then as if the turbulence
Of living was not enough
I am picked up by random
And tossed back out to sea
And must wait once again
For a new millennium to begin
To be born again.

Blossoms And Bubbles


As I entered the garden the scents enticed
rampant rose blossom the arches fenced.

Cascading aromatic blossoms greeting me
amidst the climbers were the sweet pea.

In the centre stood the patio so glamorous
sparkling bubbles of champagne so amorous.

Tickling the throat buds saturated with scent
from the tumbling blossoms as they descent.

Blood stream and breath full of roiling bubbles
and past swish the gentry parading in couples.

Raise your glasses in a toast as friends are wed
laughing, knowing they will all too soon be in bed.

Ah what a perfect day in this romantic garden
bubbles and blossoms tumbling as skies darken

Blossoms and bubbles never somniferous
mixed together they are becoming toxiferous.

LIGHTING DISPERSED ITSELF ACROSS THE SKY, THUNDER HULLABALOO’S ITS NAME,
AGAIN A BOLT CATCHES MY EYE, BUT THIS WAS NOT THE SAME.
FOR IT STRETCHED OUT FIFTY MILES OR MORE THEN THE COLOUR TURNED TO RED,
AN OCCURRENCE I HAD NOT WITNESSED BEFORE, MY MIND RUPTURED IN MY HEAD.
I COLLAPSED ABRUPTLY ON MY KNEES, MY HANDS TIGHTLY COVERING MY EARS,
PRESSURE IN MY HEAD STARTED TO SQUEEZE, BLOOD WAS IN MY TEARS.
MY TORSO FELT READY TO BURST, I CATERWAULED IN AGONISING PAIN,
THEN ONCE MORE LIKE THE FIRST, RED LIGHTING CAME AGAIN.
THE INTENSITY OF ANOTHER BOLT THREW ME ON MY BACK,
THEN MY FRAME GAVE A JOLT, I FELT MY NECK TWIST AND CRACK.
I HEARD MY BREATHING SLOW RIGHT DOWN AND THEN IT STOPPED ALL TOGETHER,
I FELT AS THOUGH BEING LIFTED OFF THE GROUND, I FELT AS LIGHT AS A FEATHER.
NO REASONING HAD I BEEN TOLD OF WHY I WAS TAKEN THAT NIGHT,
BUT TRULY NOW I KNOW MY SOUL, IS PART OF AN ONGOING FIGHT.
AS RED LIGHTENING AND HOLLOWING THUNDER, SHOOT THROUGH THE NIGHT TIME SKY,
TURN AWAY DON’T MAKE THE BLUNDER IN HEAVENS BUSINESS DON’T YOU PRY.

Clear sky of blue and clouds of white
Bathed by sunshine above
Create such a beautiful sight
Instilling feelings of love

Lighting up the greenery below
Of the trees, grasses and plants
Giving them an enchanting glow
Setting the stage for romance

The ripples on the nearby lake
Stirred up by a gentle breeze
Invite the viewer to partake
With feelings of peace and ease

Such samples of Nature's nectar
Are free to each one of us
We are all a part of Nature
and Nature is part of us

all the sands from the beaches
were grains of gold in her eye
though we marched across her breast in tiny boats
her mind was still as glass and reflected sky

Biting Cold

It was a freezing night in Alaska, the temperature had
dropped to well below zero, fifteen below with a driving
wind that shrieked and laughed as it sped viciously past
causing lashing snow flakes to fall fast and furiously.

Up in the high mountains the man shook his head
as he stoked up the fire causing the flames to dance
creating shadows on the sod hut's walls. They seemed
to move with a life of their own. Forming first a pattern
a fleeting glimpse of a unicorn or so he thought. He needed
the storm to pass by so he could check out his many traps.

He was working two lines this winter for pine martin with
the odd trap for Lynx and wolverine who were a bane
always robbing his traps of his fur. He also had traps
deep in the river by the beaver's dams, the price of their
fur was sky high this year. He needed to hunt for more
meat too as his freezer was nearly empty and it would
be a long two months before the thaw and he could get
supplies flown in. Turning in he slept well waking to find
the storm was tailing off, quickly he got things ready.

Daylight was a brief five hours this time of year and
one was already gone. He worked the line nearest to
his hut first gathering up the furs and resetting the traps.
It was so tranquil now, the spruces stretched up high
seeming to touch the sky shedding the odd pile of snow
from laden branches that drooped with the weight.

Picking up some deer tracks that were fresh he followed.
Soon spotting some elk high up on the next ridge he
climbed around to get into position. He lined up his
sights on a healthy male and took a clean shot
dropping it in its tracks. Quickly he field dressed it
taking the hide and meat leaving the rest for the
various predators that were already gathering.

At least it was mainly downhill to what he called
home. Striding on as darkness started to fall
he soon was home and now the work began.
He have several furs to skin, stretch and pin
out to dry, others that now needed more
work, scraping carefully he removed and smoothed
the hides and hung them on frames in his smoke room
to colour and cure. Then he had his dogs to feed before
he himself could also eat. It had been a long hard day.

He now had a moment to reflect and gave thanks to
the elk who had died so he and his dogs could eat.
This would be his life for the next few weeks, then he
would take his furs to town to sell. He would be glad to
see his family again it would be nearly five months
since he was last home and over three since he had spoken
to another soul. Yet he would not give up this way of life.

The last thing he did before he flew out was to dismantle
his sod hut and burn the remains on the iced up river
removing all signs that he had been here. Next winter he
would build another in a different place and life would go on.

Alone I sit
staring at the cold grey sky
All around
winter's handiwork
so silent
so beautiful
fills the land

Drifting lazily upwards
pillars of smoke
rise ghost-like
from the chimneys

On the ground below
the freshly fallen snow
so quiet, so fragile
instils deep peace
within my soul

Standing alone in the distance
a church steeple
points majestically towards the sky
in silent testimony
of its God

Nothing stirs -
the sparrows have gone to bed
this cold winter's evening
dreaming pleasant dreams
of tomorrow's spring
when new life will take form
in Nature's world
or perhaps they dream
of yesterday's summer
when they flitted happily
from tree to tree
dancing in the sunshine
so happy to be alive
and free

Yet, dream on
my little friends
for even while you dream
cold winter must reign
a little while longer
still blessing the earth
with her deep silent beauty
--- as now the snow begins to fall
once more








(I wrote this piece in the late 1960s
when I was a university student
in Winnipeg, Canada.)