Crimson Crowns

by john clare

my golden crowned lady of crimson beauty
I defend thee from the image of me!
For who better to know the enemy within
Than he who knows where treachery begins?

my crimson crowned warrior of renown
who defends this the honor of my golden crown
do you not know within that for which you fall
is but a heart of common straw?

Behold Your Sacrifice

by john clare

from the realm of the Father you came down
to end the slaughter of the lambs
the doves in open cages soar overhead
fatted calves rise from the altars of red
life returns to this land of death!
Angels fill a heaven no longer bereft
Majesty in the out of the way
the lowest know this first day
their swaddled sacrifice lies so very blue and still
they huddle close to ease His first earthly chill.

A Christmas Card letter

My mother showed me her Christmas cards which she loves to get and mull over long, I read one in particular that for some reason really irks me. It was one of those newsletter cards that catches you up on what has been going on in the lives of some family you have absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the year. It usually starts out, we just moved into our new home, I just got my advanced degree in some fabulously difficult field, the kids are excelling tremendously, the husband, he spends most of his time in the woods in his new lease...bla bla bla....
I would like one year, to read a reality newsletter card, one more down to my level...
We are not sure if we can keep the house, I am still looking for work, but at my age, prospects beyond a Walmart greeter elude me, the wife, she is struggling at her job, the staff are cut throat and the commute a killer. The kids, one is addicted to video games, the other
we never see, but he is doing better in his makeshift shed he lives in with his one year old and wife.
You know....not all is so hunky dorey out there folks. Spare us the prosperous details of your well-manicured Christmas.
Oh, by the way, those boots...I am throwing them at you.

Journey Wrong

Journey Wrong

by john clare

I was not wanting on this journey into exile
Impudent men packed the safari boxes and set out
Tracing torn paths on maps rolled long ago
Thinking wiser ones than them hid something
worth leaving.
And so we endured the hardships
of following forbidden maps.
Our party split at the foot of the sacred hill,
most of the burden bearers seeing
the skulls upon the stakes
Others the golden trinkets adorning the bones.
Way too far along to say I told you so,
I pick up the abandoned burdens
and journey on
Too close to the X to turn back now.
And to what?
The reef holding our sunken schooner?
The drums from cannibal councils
hungering for flesh?
The lot is cast with this gold lustered crew.
What more can a mute coward do?

Beyond Fifty fathoms

Beyond fifty fathoms
by john clare

from the shore to far away
beyond the time of gloam
the equinox between the night
and the day
Half a heart for home
Half a heart to roam
the symmetry defines
a double bladed shaft
crafts of graceful lines
places sought so vast
Half a urge to hurry
Half a urge to tarry
gleams from soft glowing
roiling to rippled surroundings
the nearer to the far I go
behind fades shattered sounds
Half way to gone
Half way to alone
upon the thin point of time
i pause before going beyond far
to cut upon the trot line
setting the guardian of far free
Half the line swings
Half the line sinks
too soon the paddle scrapes
the near shore from far
shattered sounds i had escaped
rising stench from a rotting gar
Half his body bone
Half his body gone
Half of me home
Half of me gone.

O Wind

Misgiving

by
Robert Frost

All crying, "We will go with you, O Wind!"
The foliage follow him, leaf and stem;
But a sleep oppresses them as they go,
And the end by bidding him stay with them.

Since ever they flung abroad in spring
The leaves had promised themselves this flight,
Who now would fain seek sheltering wall,
Or thicket, or hollow place for the night.

And now they answer his summoning blast
With an ever vaguer and vaguer stir,
Or at utmost a little reluctant whirl
That drops them no further than where they were.

I only hope that when I am free,
As they are free, to go in quest
Of the knowledge beyond the bounds of life
It may not seem better to me to rest.

First light upon Suwannee

Suwannee Gold

Toward Halpatter Home

Luna Swift

Four Pair

Low Alligator

Flyways

Five Rebels

by john clare

We had five compasses all pointing the same direction
Each plainly telling us which way we should go
Yet to the man the opposite direction was chosen
When all were lost each blamed a compass defection.

We each had five rulers all marking the same inch
Each clearly showing us where to make the cut
But when none of the boards would squarely abut
We blamed the rulers varied increments.

We had five tuning forks in the key of C
It easily told us how to tune our instruments
But when the noise began and the booing commenced
It was the fault of the fork, we heard the chord of D.

We had five Bibles opened upon John 3:16,
We each clearly read whosover, shall not perish
But have life eternal
But when we died and woke in hell infernal
We blamed the Bible for not saying
what it clearly means.

Five rebels blaming all the wrong things
Compasses for going North, rulers for warped wood,
Forks for bad music, Bibles for not going with the good
Five rebels now screaming instead of singing.

Dispersion Home

by john clare

Dropping into the lake that spring morning
The warmth of the wood box home high above me
I joined my brothers and sisters immediately
And knew from the start an inward yearning.

I knew without warning that gators and snakes
were to be avoided
I knew from the beginning a longing for
a distant home
That I must eat continually and grow strong
In order to join the great, gathering dispersion.

I recall well that first chill of autumn
And how from this lake as if on cue
We lifted and knew the path as we in
V formations were joined with
Wings of purpose going toward the
home we knew from fledglings.

And so now I lay in the same box
from which I came
The ones who will again disperse to
homes they know
As upon the grand V I shall see
but not go
But this I shall know as from the beginning
Home was always the deepest
instinct within me.

Cardinal Communicators

by john clare

A Cardinal was sent from the throne
of the great maker of Word
And given the ability to peck His
message in coded song
Yet only the wise Hams could
interpret what was going on
To the rest of us just dots and
dashes from a red bird.

He came to my window day upon day
pecking away
As I sat in my squalor and watched
his incessant window smashing
It occurred to me dimly he was
dot and dashing
So I took the pen and this is what he
was saying to me:
Dash Dash stop
Dot stop
Dash dot stop
Dot stop stop

Dash stop
Dot stop
Dash dot Dash stop
Dot stop
Dot dash dot Dash stop stop

Dot dash dash dot stop
Dot stop
Dot dash dot stop
Dot stop
Dot dot dot stop stop

And then he was gone and all was quiet
It wasn't long before I was weighed in
the balance and found wanting
As in my night visions the dot
dashing was quite alarming.

So if this Cardinal comes to your pane
He may just be pecking
Dash dot dash dash stop
Dash dash dash stop
Dot dot dash stop
Dot dash dot stop stop

Dash dot stop
Dot dash stop
Dash dash stop
Dot stop stop
Or not.

Old Town Chipewyan

Battered blue scratched yellow bleeding through
Shores of smooth sand to shoals of limestone gouging
Tattered paint lines from wrapping cypress knees
My trusty companion, the Chipewyan canoe.

Through the white waters of Big Shoals to the
quiet tannic streams of the upper Sopchoppy
Under the buzzing bees upon the tupelo trees
Among the moss swaying oaks of the Suwannee.

Wooden bent shaft bending branch paddle lapping
the eddy line with a silent j stroking turning
straining to catch the otter as muscles burn while
In the bow rides one blissfully napping.

White brave upon the black tonic of Osceola
Drunk in a stupor of ceremonial cleansing
Purging years of inner conflicts called sinning
Looking back to see them sinking slow.

The Alligator bolts from the bank and bumps
the underbelly of the battered blue hull
Surfaces ahead and snorts in terrible rage
ready to charge waiting for the panic jump.

Secure in the battle scratched canoe of old
the challenge is met and I stroke ahead
waking the frantic one to a wide-eyed dread
This was not the peace of which I was told!

Swirling and sinking to the murky bottom
the denizen of the Suwannee has won the day
Never more to surface to sky's bright display
The gator stores his catch until its rotten.

Never again will I paddle in this Chipewyan
through this God forsaken stream of creatures wild
a gauntlet of gators and snakes smelling foul
Take me away from this infestation of dying.

And so the white brave paddles again alone
decrying all upon the banks of black and gold
hard to make that j stroke as he is getting old
Chipewyan on rivers of death and life getting along.

Beside Tangled Trails

The walk along the banks of the Suwannee from Bell Springs to Big Shoals is one of the most scenic paths you will find. I never grow dull and unaware of something new each time I venture there. There are thick palmetto's covering both sides of the path, opening under the large oak and pines to views of the Suwannee below on your left side. The banks are high and steep, with interesting limestone formations, with several smaller shoals before you begin to hear the impressive Big Shoals.
These particular trees have lately been pruned by the Florida Trail Association. I liked it better when you had to literally stoop and go under the low hanging limbs. Still, it makes for a worthwhile walk.

Complete Focus

Recently the plea was expressed:
God help me focus completely on you.
As a photographer, let me help you out on that:

1) Is your aperture stuck?
So He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the town. And when He had spit on his eyes, and put His hands on him, He asked him if he saw anything? And he looked up and said, "I see men like trees, walking." Mark 8:23-24.
2)Is your lens cap on?
But even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing, whose minds the god of this age has blinded, who do not believe, lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine on them. 2 Corin. 4:3-4.
3)Is your shutter speed off?
So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God. James 1:19-20.
4)Is the battery dead?
Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body, that you should obey it in its lusts. And do not present your members as instruments of unrighteousness to sin, but present yourselves to God as being alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God. Romans 6:11-12.
5)Have you read the manual?
But you must continue in the things which you have learned and been assured of, knowing from whom you have learned them, and that from childhood you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.
2 Timothy 3:14-15.
6)Is it daylight?
Then Jesus said to them, "A little while longer the light is with you. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you; he who walks in darkness does not know where he is going. While you have light, believe in the light that you may become sons of light."
John 12:35-36.
7)Is God even in front of you?
And He has made from one blood every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, and has determined their preappointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings, so that they should seek the Lord, in the hope that they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each of us. Acts 17:26-27.
8)Is the lens clean?
For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I am known.
I Corin. 13:12.
9)Do you really want complete focus?
Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us have grace, by which we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear. For our God is a consuming fire. Hebrews 12:28-29.
10)Then go ahead and focus completely.
Now may the God of peace who brought up our Lord Jesus from the dead, that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you complete in every good work to do His will, working in you what is well pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to who be glory forever and ever. Amen.
Hebrew 13:20-21.

Canned Vivid

With my obsession lately with vivid colors, I have found the perfect photographers accessory. Canned Vivid. If a scene you come upon is flat and lacking in pop, fear not. No need to fuss over bothersome menu's and settings in your camera. Just take out your can of instant vivid, spray upon the scene and there you have it. Vivid scenery.
No need for post processing. Results consistent. In this photograph, you can see I was able to apply selective vivid. Should you want a Super Vivid, simply continue to spray the entire scene until the result you are after is achieved. Your fans will praise you for your imaginative creations and line up to purchase their vivid scenery from the master photographer of vivid scenery.

fall upon logs

Six trees of Suwannee

by john clare

i know it is but a cliche
but i think that i shall never see
a poem as lovely as the
Six trees upon the Suwannee
now decked in green
it tis the reason
for the season
i mean
it is but a tired cliche
so i had to get away
and spend some sane time
next to the lovely six
trees upon the Suwannee.

Six Trees of Suwannee

Both taken with D5000 at 43mm. f4@100, handheld. Auto WB on the B@W, Manual WB on the color. Both Matrix metering. ISO 360 on the B@W, 450ISO on the color. White balance set at cloudy on both.
I find the black and white the more appealing of the two, though the green matt perhaps distracts from the color. Lesson to learn in addition is the use of the tripod. A shutter speed under the speed of 125 I consider the minimum speed for blur. Had I a 72mm graduated filter for the 18-200 lens, I would have used it to darken the sky further.
What are your thoughts?

from oval frames

from Oval frames

by john clare

out of her lovely oval frame
to me the studious girl came.
from in the parlor where she read
from far in the night upon her bed
coal fields covered in the purest snow
melting away into the blackest flow.
from this jungle of incessant rumble,
over the studious girl I forever stumble.
in the leaves blown down from the hills,
in springs freeing the snowy chills,
even in my children's children she shall always be,
the studious girl reading quietly.