Barding!
The poems,
three of them,
Were as an inspiration
by Seren,
She asked me to
pack up my old templates
And write a new,
So the

River Of No Return,
became due.

Then Shirley said
Rainbows,
which you have to
Comment perhaps too

Later,
a third one was written

Their Different Ways,

Inspired by the American
And
Canadian

Hence three poems

Hope was in driver's seat
coursing on the subconscious freeway
dreaming to a pseudo destination
just beyond the stretch of imagination

Flashes of brilliance leading to a tunnel
"Park your bodies , let go of your final breath,
This way to Salvation"
proclaimed the Signage

I have sat upon
Kaatskill Falls
For a millennium

My arms searching
Reaching skywards
My roots spreading

I have become gazer
Standing testament
Of long times spent

I have witnessed
The inhales and exhales
Of countless days

I have witnessed
Mankind’s brilliance
In fortitude and defeat

I am the original
Birch Tree who
Extends her reach

I am now a grove
Of Birch Trees
Canopying the falls

I am the Sentry
Watchwoman of Earth
Anticipating my rebirth

Growing weary of talking
at the end of the night
we fall into each other
loosing our grip
on the boundaries of Self
We begin to merge
becoming One

Then, she stirs
with a wriggle and
a trump
wakes with a smile

We laugh,
Our Oneness interrupted

`

hapless indulgences
animated silences
quiver

hankered imagination
ambiguous synapses
quibble

each way you turn
each thought you churn
new lessons learn

potted flower plants
line your driveway
mind you don't crush them

`

.
a moment, captured
in gentle eloquence
the poet smiles
.

birds sing, children play
a monk tends chores in silence
what does he not know

.
Ah!Ha!, says the monk
the poet bows gracefully
hiding a sly smile

She steps onto the balcony, gazing
Far unto the edges of her reign.
Moonlight radiates strands of auburn hair
Eschewing from beneath her night bonnet.

The night is young, as she
What wanting and needing
Stirs within her about him
Knowing not whence he came.

Gently a cool breeze brushes her cheek
She closes her eyes, and cocks her head
Leaning on a palm which is not there
Eyes slit open and she sees her lover
She inhales and smells him
Opening her mouth tasting him
Like a snake would senses its prey.

I yearn for this island,
That is so far away,
Drenched in darkness,
Where foul things play.

A haven for souls,
That have come undone,
Where those of black hearts,
Come to gather as one.

There is a great garden,
Filled with shadows and doom,
And buds of black velvet,
You can relax in the gloom.

It's right place to be,
If you shun the light,
They frolic in evil,
Embracing the night.

.
I no longer attempt to jump the moon,
touch the stars,
nor kiss the sky
trying to get beyond
being
a man
earth bound

"out there"
...IS
"in here"

mind
tailored of
Mobius strips
of heart and soul
designed especially
to see
all that need be seen
by man
as man
earthbound
and grounded for life

I wish I were a bird;
could soar above the clouds
and touch the moon

fly faster than the speed of light
and hear the planning
of tomorrow

take wing against the march of time
and listen to the voices
of the past

or simply be;
glide upon currents of air,
observe the beauty of steamy tropic forests,
feel the icy cold of snowy mountain peaks,
perhaps, taste the tang of wild salty seas
and then perch, nonchalantly,
in a favorite tree.

11.28.2010
© Tonya Greenlee