Monarch of fall

 The joy of fall

The female Monarch in the Osceola

Nana

 Papa made a fire today NaNa

Made it in your memory

Used your orange barrow small

To gather up the pine straw

There was no dancing round the kettle

And as the ashes began to

Settle

Pappa just let them fall at will

Pulled closer and tried to shake this Autumn chill.

Wings for wolves

 

Interesting how when I only post a poem as this there are no responses. Why is that? My thought is the words aren’t read, only the photographs quickly looked at. 

Beautiful

 Beautiful 

I must get beyond

The well worn 

Response to everything 

And just accept it

For what it is

A compliment

And move on

Like the seven Hebrew

Words for praise

I cannot help it

If only one is used

It’s still Praise.

For a day

 For a day

If I could have you

For just a day

I know

It’s cliche

And taboo to you

These are some symbols of 

What we could do:

:

;

“

-

/

)

I truly think you’d

Wish it weren’t taboo

And it would last

Well into the night.

Wet Streams

 Wet Streams

In this dream

I was paddling

Up a stream

It seemed

So real.

Pray for Nation

 We paused at 6 to pray for America and the vote tomorrow.

Beauty be not caused

 Beauty-be not caused-It Is-

Chase it, and it ceases-

Chase it not, and it abides-

Overtake the Creases

In the Meadow- when the Wind

Runs his fingers thro’ it-

Deity will see to it

That You never do it-

Emily Dickinson 

c.1862

Gulf Fritillary among the iron weed

Before the fall

 Before the fall

John Clare Stokes

We envision ourselves forever with the young

The race we can still line up and run

And maybe some are given feet ever strong

Others, we are just grateful to limp home. 

Little Shoals

Suwannee

Upon slipping on the slippery rocks and having to crawl up the bank and limp back to the vehicle

Hey Hey goodbye

 Na na na na na na na na

Hey hey goodbye

John Clare Stokes

Nada will you please put another forty-five on?

Spin Wooly Bully for our beau Johnny Cone!

How we loved our Friday night pajama parties,

Crying in the chapel with the birds and the bees.

Now you tell me mamma Bishop's with Desmond and Marc?

That just leaves you and PJ to spin Petula Clark!

Sock Hops at seventy Oh still soothe the soul,

Kind of a drag, but it's not unusual you know 

We sure believed in magic from ole Roy Oribson,

Help! Where did our loves go?

I can't help this feeling we're

On the Eve of Destruction!

Fields of Summers all

 fields of summer's all

by john clare stokes 

in the fallow fields of fall

there lies a long lost ball

kicked over the goal of old

when the uprights were two

and the boys I am told

were measured by feat

but tonight around the

trampled tiger head

we name the fallow field

after the one

who lost the ball

took to alcohol

sat beside the Madden

Super ones

and to Jesus late

did come

So future bums

who make it big

can gather round

the purple tiger

and aspire

to have a fallow field

named for them.

Driving

 Took a big step when i drove the hour drive home today from Williston.