Saturday, September 14, 2019

Cycle of Seasons

Cycle of Seasons

In our patch four distinct seasons
wheel from solstice to solstice.
Like parents love all the children,
we love each season, but as with
children some may be favored more
than others, like a parent we know
the strengths and weaknesses of each.

Winter displays its glistening
white snow, and its vivid blue sky
above the churning sea.
Pleasing aromas come from unseen
oak wood fires. Then too are
the fears of destructive
blizzards and freezing winds.

Spring, a season of renewal and hope,
brings green peeking through the brown,
purple crocuses, and there's sweet scent
on air currents from the south.
A rabbit's kits munch nervously
on bits of grass. Then too there's
the heavy rains, the mud and flooded roads.
Summer, with its warm breezes,
reveals a plethora of greens and blues.
The clean smell when a gentle shower
with lightning displays, accent the season.
Then too there is the worry
of hurricanes, water shortages,
and of blistering heat and humidity.

Fall brings cool weather, colorful
sweaters and comfortable jackets. A mass
of warm colors clothe the trees. Apples,
squashes and jugs of cider pile high on tables
at the weekly farmers' markets. Diligent workers
at bogs harvest cranberry. Then too we know
it won't last, our favorite season will end.

Saturday, August 31, 2019

The Yucca Plant

The Yucca Plant

The plant in my front yard
is flowering. It doesn't bloom every year.
When just a boy on a family outing,
I spotted it and took a cutting.
After the trip I planted it in the yard.

Time came for me to have my own place,
again I took a cutting. It grows
in my yard now. This year it
has blossoms.

Other plants may be more beautiful,
or may have a better aroma,
it brings back memories,
and that's enough.

Thursday, August 15, 2019

Mrs. Bible

Mrs. Bible

At twenty five it was my first teaching job.
Mrs. Bible taught at the same
western Massachusetts boarding school.
She taught foreign languages, was at least 50 years old,
and spoke with an east European accent.

Mrs. Bible was an enigmatic person.
No one knew who Mr. Bible was,
when she had come to the States, or her history
after she left Russia. She was educated and
had a special calmness and worldly bearing.

The school arranged a bus trip to the 1964 World's Fair.
As the students meandered about
Mrs Bible and I visited the displays together.
She was keen to see the Russia Pavilion.
Together we went to the exhibit of
holy icons, and listened to the presentation.
When the guide finished, Mrs. Bible suggested
that this was not the original icon - the docent
insisted it was. Mrs. Bible stated she had worked
on the restoration of this icon and had placed the gem
differently. Silently the group broke up befuddled.

The incident told me something about Mrs. Bible,
and made her more mystifying.

An example of a bejeweled Russian icon.

Sunday, July 28, 2019

My Lovely Pet

My Lovely Pet

My pet's quiet and clean as can be,
never a harsh noise do you hear,
nor a foul loathsome mess to see.
No wonder it's always so dear.

Some people must take special care,
for daily walks, outside they must go,
and for their charge it's only fair,
mine is always an indoor show.

Truly it has a lovely colored coat,
looking different in a different light.
Its fine shape is a something to note,
and to be sure it never will bite.

Just nothing does it ever eat,
my beloved, please do not mock,
you would say it's really neat
so wondrous is my pet rock.

Sunday, July 14, 2019

Summer Visitor

Summer Visitor

Daily, Eddie takes his mum for a walk,
they go down the treed road to the dock.
A loving, friendly family, has Eddie,
with a wagging tail he's always ready.
As dogs go, Eddie is not that big,
pointless holes he never does dig.
He wears an endearing brown coat,
genial face and a cheerfulness of note.
Eddie is a neighborhood star,
when he is near, how lucky we are.

Eddie.  Maybe he's wondering what I'm doing.

Sunday, June 30, 2019

Like a Kaleidoscope

Like a Kaleidoscope

Fireworks boom loud in the sky
like great flowers way up high.
Big crowds gather at the shore
eyes fixed as vivid blossoms soar.
It’s the day to mark our start
July Fourth touches the heart.

Photo taken through eye piece of toy kaleidoscope.

Assembly of various materials as reaction to fireworks.  

Saturday, June 15, 2019

An Old Man's Rambling

An Old Man's Rambling

At two in the morning I am woken
by a painful left wrist, agonizing in itself,
more so when I try to use it.
When I get up, I find the hand,
my dominant hand, is of little use.

I'm old and I'm handicapped.
Able to have only one hand
on the wheel, driving isn't something
I should do. With prescriptions to
pick up, I call my sisters who
come and take me to the pharmacy.
A problem solved.

In my ninth decade,
there's a worry that every ache
has a more profound reason.
Quickly to the computer, I search
for “wrist pain” on the internet.
A relief, this pain is just plain pain.
Some helpful hints and a prognosis-
without further aggravation- it will
last about two day.

Nine out of ten times the body heals itself.
It's that one time that has a wider implication.
This time it was one of the nine.

That one in ten is yet to come.

Sunday, May 26, 2019

Memorial Day, A Sideways Look

Memorial Day, A Sideways Look

For us here, in this seaside place,
long, warm days start a different pace.
This is when the tourist begin to come,
for many this means jobs and income.

For a restaurant, hotel or shop
hiring of workers start to pop.
Smiling clerks, a pay check get,
the visitors help them avert debt.

The summer people whoever they be,
in themselves we're glad to see,
but also for those who jobs seek,
now begins the year's income peak.

Main Street, Falmouth, after Memorial Day.

Sunday, May 12, 2019

By the Wayside

By the Wayside

Years ago
near Beebe Woods,
among some garden waste,
I spotted clumps of day lilies,
maybe left by someone who doesn't compost.

I took the roots home
and planted them
in the backyard near the shed.

Every year,
in mid-spring, they sprout.
June brings Dublin green leaves
with Londonderry orange flowers
peacefully complementing each other.
The vibrant patch spreads.

Progeny of that clutch grows
and thrives in gardens of others.
All from someone's garden waste.

Sunday, April 28, 2019

April Morning

April Morning

A gauze shroud of misty fog
envelops my patch this morning.
An earthy aroma of a damp
spring nurses the sense.

Near colors are muted.
Yesterday's emerald pines,
have become celadon,
the litter of umber oak
leaves, beige.
Distant views seem tinted grays.
The diffused light makes the puddles
look like pools of quicksilver.

The world of sounds is hushed,
calls of chickadees, whispers,
rustling leaves can barely be heard
and distracting noises go unnoticed.

It's a world of pleasant melancholy,
a day to look back,
a day to plan ahead,
a day to feel the now.