Dumb tree?

 I say again

With a definitive surety 

Walls and trees

Though they have mouths

Do not talk

Despite your wish for such

I know

For they tell me daily

We aren't in the mood

Our stories to tell

To tell to those who

Would just as soon fell us

Stoke the fires to warm

At our expanse 

So get over it. 

Then I was whispered...

If I need say anything

I will post it 

That's my post behind me.

The turmoil without

The turmoil without 

All creation groans in travail, 

to see the birth of the coming, 

seas and stars and moon and

men aligning for the day,

whispers heard above the wind

flickering seen upon the horizon.

The pursuit

 The Pursuit

Johnclarestokes 

Under the lesser light a visage soars

an up turned dipper spills forth glory

through the winter night orisons outpour 

The heavenly pursuit, the n’er ending story

The hart startles from frozen slumber

Chiroptera arise! to meet nocturnal hoary

the celestial sings to greet the unnumbered 

The heavenly pursuit, the n’er ending glory

Breath labored, mere mortal so frail 

take all from me, still shall I worship

riding upon Milky Ways, He easily sails

The heavenly pursuit, the n’er ending script

Miles from nowhere, into the night

naked, cold beast, come Lord the cry

In a moment, in a twinkling, bringing flight

The heavenly pursuit, the n’er ending eternity

No man can come, the Pursuer must draw

The pursuit of Yahweh, the eternal coming call!

The beauties

 The desolate, deserted trees,

   The faded earth, the heavy sky,

The beauties she so truly sees,

 She thinks I have no eye for these,

    And vexes me for reason why.

                               Robert Frost

Poetic Paths

 Poetic Paths

Johnclarestokes 

You are to read your Robert Frost

How else will you know which path to seek

You are to read your Emily Dickinson 

To stay the homesick-homesick weary feet

Bob at 101

 Bob would be 101.

Shiver to timber

 Old Town trimmed   Paddles stoked with remember  Tonight from shiver to timber  We paddle into forgetting.

From shiver to timber

This still evokes warm memory from the time my son Jordon and I loaded down the Old Town and paddled upriver on The Suwannee at Cone Bridge to camp at the sand bar. This was at Cone before embarking.

Crosswalk wins

 Yesterday if you recall, the cones were victorious over the cross walk. Today, the cross walk was back in control, the cones cowering. I so detest cross walks.

Bar chase

I'm a bar hunter

This photo was posted on the Happenings page and it was said it needed focus. Really? I felt the added motion of the background with the relatively in focus barred sulphur butterfly was just what was needed to convey the elusive nature of the sulphur's, always eluding my chasing for a frame. Bar is a play on word. I do not often explain these things obvious to me but I suppose not to some.

Jesse’s tree

 I wish I was in

Jesse's tree

St John's Street

Pano mode

I dreaded laughter more than blame,

I dared not sing aloud for shame,

So all unheeded, lone and free,

I felt it happiness to be

Unknown, obscure, and like a tree 

In woodland peace and privacy.

John Clare

The progress of rhyme

Tampa to New York

 I dreamed of

Being on the

Tampa to New York

When a lovely lady

Came outside and said’

“Let me know when

You’re ready for breakfast”.

And Tampa to New York

Was but a one thousand

And six mile memory

Wild Nights

 Wild Nights- Wild Nights!

Were I with thee

Wild Nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile-the Winds-

To a Heart in port-

Done with the Compass-

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden-

Ah, the Sea!

Might I but moor-Tonight-

In Thee!

Emily Dickinson