ShadowsCool
07-06-2011, 06:57 AM
(I)
The Rose
Shrouding from the autumnal chill
I owe this the victor of my heart;
As joyous days long left my reach
And thorns ripped us apart.
I wonder where went a budding rose
Sprung forth one dry season;
In the pinnacle of springs release
Without a fountain to protect it.
As mysteries go add another
To a heart in fondness looking wayward back;
In the majestic piercing heavenly sky
To wither slowly only to die.
(II)
Song Of Mist
Cloud of glory,
Wanderer of sky,
My presence request you,
to make me arise.
It's mist I'd rather be,
To rise and fall from sea to sea,
A part of a cloud
If it's to be.
Night would come,
I would be dew;
to settle on a rock,
Or be called up to you.
The sun would shine,
I would vaporize,
From one form to another
To sing your glory.
(III)
For The Storm
For the storm
I rest and wait,
Forecast of doom
Warned otherwise.
But I feel mellow
A flower on the plain,
Nowhere else I care to grow
Nowhere else to rightly show.
I'm just content on peering
Inquisitively at the black sky,
And holding on dearly
To a bible by my side.
(IV)
Let My Words
Let my words
Buffet the seas
Sweeping over tenderly
Darkness being so free
So far my thoughts
Heavenly capture glitter
Brighten and garnishing
Your captivating smile
Conjuring up a dream
Seeping cool springs
Spiraling, free falling
Downward to soft pillows
A meandering bliss
Utopias gushing gasp
Dreams you thought
Would never pass
So swiftly
From me to you
As a blue prism
Sweeping through
Transparent time.
(V)
The Wing of A Dove
The wing of a dove
Mid air over the moonlit mountains
Over a blanket of pure snow
Arrayed in a sky filled with stars
Cleansing the air pure
Enthralling all breathable creatures.
These majestic green mountains
Brim with maple syrup
Downy and palpable
Sweet to the swaying tongue
With wine strumming through the glacial rivers
Streaming down an embankment of sculpted stones.
From a wing of a dove this you see
An enthralling countryside
Riveting and set free
As you are hovering over me
Without a care
Flaunting the wonder of your creation.
(VI)
A Creek
A creek still thunders by my place
I guess it became obsolete
In the plans of developers
Who overlooked its majestic streams.
So I am more than grateful
To its arcane following,
It reflects to me
Waves of great possibilities
That life somehow washed away.
(VII)
Downy White Snowflake
Beautiful white snowflakes
With hexagon edges,
A uniqueness all our own;
Downy in the air
Floating everywhere.
A team of floating snowflakes,
We have our own flair,
With plenty left to spare;
We go on through the air
Landing anywhere.
We play by no rules
Our weight is our care,
We go just anywhere,
Just floating
With little care.
Our moment in the air
Gusty misty wind drops,
We downy white snowflakes
Doing what we dare.
We know the role we play
Our job we dance around,
We downy white snowflakes
Until we hit the ground.
(VIII)
The Wild Windswept Tree
The snow clung heavy to the wild windswept yard,
Amid the scene stood a tree, a forlorn looking tree
Figuring what her role may be,
As she looked out at the white maze of blizzard snow.
There she found tunnels of trotted paw prints,
Marks of little creatures having crawled home
Through the whiteness of snow;
Her roll now that of curious bystander;
She having relinquished her crown,
Her beauty having flown in the Autumn wind.
For now she was playing to her hearts winter content;
Waiting patient for the southern gales of Spring
To bring the first robin to sing for her,
Then she would be in her happy role
Being seen in the abundant roving green.
But now she can only dream,
She being just a brown stick in the ground,
Amid the wild windswept snow clinging to everything.
(IX)
The Night Air
Soothing in the night air
My heart walks with you there,
Around the town not a sound
But your heart beating with mine.
And fine you are
Like above a star,
Falling earthbound
Softly on my waiting arms.
Slumbering my heart,
How right it feels.
Listening to gentle music,
Feeling your tranquil cheeks.
Contentment paints your eyes
So I address the blue heavenly skies,
What beauty it has brought
To me the woman I always sought.
(X)
Fleeting Lover
Fleeting across the growing grass
A glimpse of my lovers past,
Never I'll paint her glowing figure.
Soon my heart will choose to forget,
In life what I must regret
Opportunities I let fly away.
Gone are the blowing fields
And the barn that stood stark in its wake.
Pictures I must not live to tell,
Smiles I will deny as well,
Only Winters grip over the life I knew
Frozen behind a veil of snow.
(XI)
The Sound Of Snow
I have put my ears to the sound of snowflakes,
The white feathery things that blow from the sky;
A unique calling of their own
A mantle of white blissful song.
I awoke alone to the 5 a.m. drifting,
Surveying the serene night-scape scene;
Out my door I felt its misting
Wrapping its chill upon my nose.
Snowflakes of each size and shape,
Snow united by the sound they make;
Across the landscape blizzard great
Snow on rooftops silently rake.
My red shovel in use is no match,
As I open small my front door latch;
Back into the inviting warmth of home
To scurry out of the bitter cold.
No matter the years they still amaze,
The 5 a.m. harking call that wakes
My ears that listen to a blissful state
Of sound that white snowflakes make.
(XII)
Mother Natures Son
Over hills of protruding gold
Gathered I pure pine scents,
As deep breaths taken in my soul
Looking out the vast blue of heaven.
The wonders I took in God only knows,
His lustrous bounty on an August display.
Wondrous streams and valleys and soaring birds
Echoing and blazing in the sky.
A great revelation to a world in need.
But small I am in its vastness and glory,
Yet I am greater than all this creation,
For no greater sights had been laid
On one man so complete.
The Rose
Shrouding from the autumnal chill
I owe this the victor of my heart;
As joyous days long left my reach
And thorns ripped us apart.
I wonder where went a budding rose
Sprung forth one dry season;
In the pinnacle of springs release
Without a fountain to protect it.
As mysteries go add another
To a heart in fondness looking wayward back;
In the majestic piercing heavenly sky
To wither slowly only to die.
(II)
Song Of Mist
Cloud of glory,
Wanderer of sky,
My presence request you,
to make me arise.
It's mist I'd rather be,
To rise and fall from sea to sea,
A part of a cloud
If it's to be.
Night would come,
I would be dew;
to settle on a rock,
Or be called up to you.
The sun would shine,
I would vaporize,
From one form to another
To sing your glory.
(III)
For The Storm
For the storm
I rest and wait,
Forecast of doom
Warned otherwise.
But I feel mellow
A flower on the plain,
Nowhere else I care to grow
Nowhere else to rightly show.
I'm just content on peering
Inquisitively at the black sky,
And holding on dearly
To a bible by my side.
(IV)
Let My Words
Let my words
Buffet the seas
Sweeping over tenderly
Darkness being so free
So far my thoughts
Heavenly capture glitter
Brighten and garnishing
Your captivating smile
Conjuring up a dream
Seeping cool springs
Spiraling, free falling
Downward to soft pillows
A meandering bliss
Utopias gushing gasp
Dreams you thought
Would never pass
So swiftly
From me to you
As a blue prism
Sweeping through
Transparent time.
(V)
The Wing of A Dove
The wing of a dove
Mid air over the moonlit mountains
Over a blanket of pure snow
Arrayed in a sky filled with stars
Cleansing the air pure
Enthralling all breathable creatures.
These majestic green mountains
Brim with maple syrup
Downy and palpable
Sweet to the swaying tongue
With wine strumming through the glacial rivers
Streaming down an embankment of sculpted stones.
From a wing of a dove this you see
An enthralling countryside
Riveting and set free
As you are hovering over me
Without a care
Flaunting the wonder of your creation.
(VI)
A Creek
A creek still thunders by my place
I guess it became obsolete
In the plans of developers
Who overlooked its majestic streams.
So I am more than grateful
To its arcane following,
It reflects to me
Waves of great possibilities
That life somehow washed away.
(VII)
Downy White Snowflake
Beautiful white snowflakes
With hexagon edges,
A uniqueness all our own;
Downy in the air
Floating everywhere.
A team of floating snowflakes,
We have our own flair,
With plenty left to spare;
We go on through the air
Landing anywhere.
We play by no rules
Our weight is our care,
We go just anywhere,
Just floating
With little care.
Our moment in the air
Gusty misty wind drops,
We downy white snowflakes
Doing what we dare.
We know the role we play
Our job we dance around,
We downy white snowflakes
Until we hit the ground.
(VIII)
The Wild Windswept Tree
The snow clung heavy to the wild windswept yard,
Amid the scene stood a tree, a forlorn looking tree
Figuring what her role may be,
As she looked out at the white maze of blizzard snow.
There she found tunnels of trotted paw prints,
Marks of little creatures having crawled home
Through the whiteness of snow;
Her roll now that of curious bystander;
She having relinquished her crown,
Her beauty having flown in the Autumn wind.
For now she was playing to her hearts winter content;
Waiting patient for the southern gales of Spring
To bring the first robin to sing for her,
Then she would be in her happy role
Being seen in the abundant roving green.
But now she can only dream,
She being just a brown stick in the ground,
Amid the wild windswept snow clinging to everything.
(IX)
The Night Air
Soothing in the night air
My heart walks with you there,
Around the town not a sound
But your heart beating with mine.
And fine you are
Like above a star,
Falling earthbound
Softly on my waiting arms.
Slumbering my heart,
How right it feels.
Listening to gentle music,
Feeling your tranquil cheeks.
Contentment paints your eyes
So I address the blue heavenly skies,
What beauty it has brought
To me the woman I always sought.
(X)
Fleeting Lover
Fleeting across the growing grass
A glimpse of my lovers past,
Never I'll paint her glowing figure.
Soon my heart will choose to forget,
In life what I must regret
Opportunities I let fly away.
Gone are the blowing fields
And the barn that stood stark in its wake.
Pictures I must not live to tell,
Smiles I will deny as well,
Only Winters grip over the life I knew
Frozen behind a veil of snow.
(XI)
The Sound Of Snow
I have put my ears to the sound of snowflakes,
The white feathery things that blow from the sky;
A unique calling of their own
A mantle of white blissful song.
I awoke alone to the 5 a.m. drifting,
Surveying the serene night-scape scene;
Out my door I felt its misting
Wrapping its chill upon my nose.
Snowflakes of each size and shape,
Snow united by the sound they make;
Across the landscape blizzard great
Snow on rooftops silently rake.
My red shovel in use is no match,
As I open small my front door latch;
Back into the inviting warmth of home
To scurry out of the bitter cold.
No matter the years they still amaze,
The 5 a.m. harking call that wakes
My ears that listen to a blissful state
Of sound that white snowflakes make.
(XII)
Mother Natures Son
Over hills of protruding gold
Gathered I pure pine scents,
As deep breaths taken in my soul
Looking out the vast blue of heaven.
The wonders I took in God only knows,
His lustrous bounty on an August display.
Wondrous streams and valleys and soaring birds
Echoing and blazing in the sky.
A great revelation to a world in need.
But small I am in its vastness and glory,
Yet I am greater than all this creation,
For no greater sights had been laid
On one man so complete.