The tides are synchronized with your moods
Precise time tables are written for decades hence
Vast oceans acquiesce to your silent command
When hurricane throws her gauntlet down
You still orchestrate from your lofty abode
Lunar light is not constant but your strength
Lies not in your reflection but in your perfection


Trust at Dusk

Katie in the air

Trust is tangible

Taste it in the air

Entire family near

She can fly high

His arms her wings

I am Autumn (Harrisham)

I am Autumn  (Harrisham)

Pecking in mass of fallen leaves

Geese eat berries the cedars shed

Eagles floating on evening breeze

Share the gray skies overhead

Dusk descends as lone deer flees

Kiss of sun on horizon turns red

Night After Night (Sevenling poem)

Whispers of darkness
Shards of light
Penetrate night’s depth

Blackness that permeates
Night after long night
Only slivers of light here

Clinical depression haunts

Hold That Word

IrisD , my poem for Poetic Asides April 4 prompt

Sliding away from my thoughts
So close I almost catch it with my tongue
Yet blurring as I try to savor it
What is that nombre that I want
I toss out a random word, and yet
I long to capture the perfect one
You walk away and then, voila
The word whispers through my lips

Turnaround Farm (prompt from Poetic Bloomings)

Turnaround Farm

I moved to a farm that is upside down
The kittens they fly
and the eagles lie down
The pigs moo in their stall
While the dogs munch on corn
The sheep say neigh
While the cow crows all morn
We get milk from the horses
And eggs from the sheep
The butterflies go buzz
While the pup goes peep, peep
Chickens lay by the hearth
And bark at the moon
While the coyotes bleat baa
And wake the raccoon
We eat pizza for breakfast
Oatmeal is for lunch
My fave is the supper
and eggs that go crunch
If you travel the highway
Don”t come here by car
You get here by horseback
Follow the daystar


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Deep Calls To Deep

Deep calls to deep at the sound of Your waterfalls;

All Your breakers and Your waves have rolled over me.*

Your majesty exceeds my extravagant imagination

Your infinite wisdom surpasses man’s corporate dreams.

One snap of your finger brings mountains to their knees,

While we struggle to move its boulders.

We have absence of war and name it peace,

You are clothed in light that calms even storms at sea.

Man considers a century as longevity

While you always existed and hold keys to eternity.


 Pastures, creek, and hayloft were our playground.
During the summers my sister and I shared our domain.
Cousins would take turns staying a week at a time.
We fed the hogs, gathered eggs, and worked in garden
 in mornings, but then we explored the farm.
My favorite was the two story barn with its huge hayloft.
We would move the bales to make hay igloos and play cowboys and Indians until we were called for lunch or supper.
A race was on to the windmill to wash our hands and face under the pump,
then hurry to sit at table where Mother always led us in prayer.

Pursuit (poem for prompt 44 Poetic Bloomings


I followed you relentlessly for I desired to possess you.

You tantalized my dreams and pervaded my thoughts.

Such a breathtaking vision, you seemingly flitted from path to path.

You were as elusive as a butterfly and I lost my direction in pursuit of you.

At dusk I wearily paused from my arduous and unfruitful journey.

My lethargy caused me to rest amidst the fragrant moonflowers.

I reflected in the solitude of the panoramic twilight sky.

Perceiving that you had paused in your flight too, I embraced you.

Running I could not capture you, but upon meditation you were mine.

Oh Wisdom, you are unexcelled in beauty and I regret I hurried so long.

Multnomah Falls


Cascading over Larch Mountain with a surge of power, your majestic force chills the rocks far below.

Sunlight filters through you like a prism, creating rainbows of color in contrast to the white spray.

During the dark hours of pre-dawn, your ever present music seems to crescendo into the oblivious sleeping valley.

One winter you were silenced when you froze into a giant icicle, like a stalactite on the side of mountain, reaching toward the cave of earth.

What a wonderful time the creator must have had, surely He laughed as he made a path for you to follow.

His fingerprints remain imprinted on the cliffs, along the winding Columbia River Gorge.

It must have been a favorite playground of His.


May 2018
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