Storm


Hot, humid and clear,
a sunny bright
summer afternoon

In the west
great billows of shining white clouds
began building higher and higher.

Coming closer, turning darker
soon a wall of threatening black
from ground to heavens,
like night before its time.

Suddenly a calm, a hush,
no breeze, no birds, still!
An eerie glow fills the air,
like looking through a tinted lens.

Then, the leaves begin to dance,
the branches sway.
A can goes bouncing, clanking
down the street, dust blows,
now the trees begin to bow
before the wind.

Faintly, in the distance,
thunder rumbles, the black clouds
backlit by flashing light.

Now a drop, and then another
the rain comes blowing on the wind.
Faster, harder now , it blows in waves
across the ground. Puddles form,
gutters run like swollen rivers. It drums on roofs, rattles at windows,
forces its way beneath the doors.

CRACK! Lightning strikes in brilliant flashes,
thunder answers with shaking crashes. Again and
again then, quieter, less frequent
as it moves off into the distance.

The wind subsides, the rain becomes
a gentle shower, then stops
as the clouds blow by.
Steam
no longer beaten down by the rain
begins to rise from the sun warmed streets.

The sun shines out from behind the departing clouds.
The air smells fresh and clean
and on the horizon
a rainbow,
nature's apology for the storm now past.

     

Morning Light

Still in the morning light,
the pond reflects the mist
rising past the heron
sitting
motionless
waiting for the sun to rise.

Fly Way
(2004)

They come from the North in the thousands.

Wings beating in a steady rhythm, necks out stretched

as they follow the ancient routes

        writing their sinuous Vs across the autumn skies.

Storm


Hot, humid and clear,
a sunny bright
summer afternoon

In the west
great billows of shining white clouds
began building higher and higher.

Coming closer, turning darker
soon a wall of threatening black
from ground to heavens,
like night before its time.

Suddenly a calm, a hush,
no breeze, no birds, still!
An eerie glow fills the air,
like looking through a tinted lens.

Then, the leaves begin to dance,
the branches sway.
A can goes bouncing, clanking
down the street, dust blows,
now the trees begin to bow
before the wind.

Faintly, in the distance,
thunder rumbles, the black clouds
backlit by flashing light.

Now a drop, and then another
the rain comes blowing on the wind.
Faster, harder now , it blows in waves
across the ground. Puddles form,
gutters run like swollen rivers. It drums on roofs, rattles at windows,
forces its way beneath the doors.

CRACK! Lightning strikes in brilliant flashes,
thunder answers with shaking crashes. Again and
again then, quieter, less frequent
as it moves off into the distance.

The wind subsides, the rain becomes
a gentle shower, then stops
as the clouds blow by.
Steam
no longer beaten down by the rain
begins to rise from the sun warmed streets.

The sun shines out from behind the departing clouds.
The air smells fresh and clean
and on the horizon
a rainbow,
nature's apology for the storm now past.

Peaceful Interlude (2004)

Took a break today
down in the woods
behind the house.
Sitting on a bench
in a shaft of sunlight
the sounds of the streets
a distant murmur.
Eyes closed, listening to
the snick, snick of leaves fallling
The scraping of squirrls scampering
up and down the trunks of the trees
and the rustle as the dart through the
old leaves on the ground.
the twittering of small birds
flitting through the underbrush
in search of seeds.
High above a flock of crows clamor
raucously as they harass a lone
hawk as it circles in search of dinner.
Off in the distance a V of geese wing their
way south, honking as they go.
All too soon its time to end this
peaceful interlude and return to the business of the day

 

 

 

 

 

Winter Night

stars like crystal
Sparkle in the cloudless sky.
The full moon shining silver
casts shadows of the leafless trees.
The only sound
the wind
now gently
blowing leaves across the path
now strongly
moaning through the tree tops,
running cold fingers round your head
and down your back.

Sunday Morning

You rise before the sun is up,
to grab a bite
and check the weather,
then, get out the bike and
pedal quickly in the pre-dawn chill.

You meet your friends riding out of the morning mist,
exchange quick greetings and set off down the road
as the sun begins to rise over the horizon.
Quickly leaving town behind you ride along getting warmer as you go.

Soon the first down hill run,
the wind quickening as you pick up speed,
the chill returning as you reach the bottom,
no sun here yet
and the damp of the river filling the air
is soon past as you start up the hill ahead.

This is a good one.
One to make you work,
get the blood flowing,
warming you up.
By the time you reach the top
you're ready to get rid of your jacket,
the sun is bright behind you,
warming up the air.

Riding down the hill,
you settle into an easy pace.
It's quiet in the early morning,
the mist slowly burning off the fields,
the birds greeting the sun with a song.
You ride along,
seeing out across the countryside,
a herd of cows slowly moving
out to pasture after the morning milking,
and over there some horses frolic,
stretching out the stiffness of the night.
And look!
There up ahead, a regal hawk sits atop a lonely tree,
calmly surveying the surrounding fields with a steely eye
watching for the hint of movement that says,
breakfast here if you're quick and sure.
Up ahead, another hill to break the pace,
by now you're warm and loose
and every one reaches the top together.
The sun is up and working now, you've been riding well,
and there ahead is a place to stop,
get a drink,
coffee and sweets inside for those inclined.
All refreshed, and ready to go, check the time,
any one need to get back soon? Not today.
Let's try a new route, haven't been there before,
let's see where it goes.

You set off down the road, round a bend
and there ahead
oh my!
That's some hill.
Oh well, here we go.
Lower your gear, take deep breath
and start to climb,
thinking of the
coast that awaits on the other side.

At the top at last.
As you wait for the rest to arrive
you look around and see a view that was worth the climb.
A panorama of fields and farms dotted with patches of woods
stretching as far as you can see.

You follow the road with your eye as it winds
into the distance.
That is where you will be heading,
across those fields,
and over there,
a covered bridge over a country stream, and there, a patch of woods
promising shade from the sun now risen high.

Together now you're ready to descend,
but listen, what was that noise?
There again and several more.
You look around and see
rising over the trees
one , two, and yet two more
brightly colored balloons
come drifting slowly across the sky,
silent but for the whoosh of the burners keeping them aloft.
You wave to the passengers who return the greeting,
and as they sail out over the valley,
you continue on your way.

All too soon you're back on the busy roads of town,
making arrangements for next Sunday morning
and saying good-bye as your friends go their separate ways.

It's been a good ride, well worth the early rise,
a perfect way to spend time with good friends,
to relax, unwind, and enjoy the outdoors.