A bit of mulch
A bunch of rain
So sets the stage
A mushroom plain
A story be
Of times of old
Here sits a stool
Made for a toad
MUSHROOM/TOADSTOOL… a poem
The hawk soars
Even while the tiny blackbird
Deftly dive bombs it from on high
One merely twitches and adjusts
The other strokes and falls
They both carry a faith
Whether large or small
Neither of them lose their focus
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WINTER’S TOUCH…
BEAUTY… a poem of nature
While the early morning shadows stretch long across the dew covered grass
A transformation is on the prowl
There is no escaping
There is no reason to fight
All will be as it is meant to be
Crystalline shards, like diamonds, dance upon grassy tips
Sun rays wink through the bushes and trees
Small wild things savor the light
As Mother Nature strokes her canvas
And once again
In awe, we gaze upon her beauty
WIND… a poem
Oh, wistful wind
How you tease me so
Gentle as the summer breeze
You cause dancing of the snow
Twisted and destructive
Typhoons and cyclones too
Heartbreak you leave in your path
To settle in the gloom
You can ease the heat of August
Or crash the waves of the seas
Dry the tears from a baby’s eyes
Blowing as you please
A love or hate relationship
Mother Nature’s deadly wrath
Sailors curse or praise you
Are you a psychopath
SEASON’S CHANGE… a poem
Summer solstice how I miss you
As you boar down with summer sun
The grass was green, and the waters were so right
But here we are now freezing
These gusts of winds – far more than breezy
As winter creeps in and brings its depth of night
AWAKEN… a poem
Misty shadows caress the morning dew
As the sun peaks above the trees
And kisses the blades of grass
NO RESPECT… a poem
Spinning, spinning, spinning
Day in and day out
Just when you think your work is finished
Something blows it out
For you, there is no respect
Most try to get away
But sometimes when you’re lucky
Some stick around and stay
To them you are so grateful
Though they too make a mess
But acids in your tummy
Help a spider to digest
AFTER… a poem
Subsequent to dying
I took a little tour
And discovered
All that I’d missed
And just a little more
The beauty within colors
That paint the morning sky
A field of flowers
All in bloom
Upon a mountainside
Precious little children
So dependent
And so sweet
Coo and smile
All the while
They play at momma’s feet
Fish within the ocean
Varieties – every kind
Birds so small
I’d have missed them all
If I hadn’t died
Creatures hiding in the bush
Some up in the trees
If only I had seen them
Before I sprouted wings
And while you do not hear me
My words are in the wind
Always say I love you
For we all come to an end
Kevin Parish 