Poetry

The shades are gone

The sun is early

And the run is done.

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The clouds cover my run

As the birds sang me through

You must love the morning

And nature makes it about you .

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Wisteria slowly blooms

against the aged fence.

The petals turn toward sun,

Purple shades and sweet scents.

The bard his memory take

among the flowers  fair

while his immortality wakes

Shakespeare claims it years .

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I remember I would lie

Looking into the sky

The aquamarine blue

Stretched way up high

Hung with invisible means

puffy white clouds

Would show up in streams

Of shapes like Animals

or people I have seen

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I look and then I stay,

The angels keep the garden

And with me we pray 🙏

Angels among my garden

A path I will keep for you

So when you come and visit

You will always get through .

CMM. 2022

A purple hue

In morning dew

As the world

Yawns

a wet morning

Spring is here

As the cardinals

Build their nest.

robin’s are near.

And the world is close

To turmoil.

wrong has replace right

However the birds

Still serenade

After the stormy night .

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I put this up earlier and somehow deleted it.

Right outside my window is a sliver of a moon .

There is no fanfare , just hangs in quiet.

Looking like God’s thumbnail ,

As an iridescent light.

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