Poetry

O wildflowers it is your time
To share your beauty once again.
Even the songbirds sing out with joy
Knowing just how long Winter’s been.

In quiet meadows long forgotten,
Escaping blade of scythe and plow,
Bees and butterflies on silent wing
Find sweetness of nectar somehow.

You bring beauty to the forest floor,
Emerging beside brook and stream.
A place to come quietly visit,
Where a heart can come sit – and dream.

There wasn’t time to say goodbye,
I know that you had to leave.
Though my heart is broken
There are some things that I believe.

I know you’re in a better place.
You were tired from the fight.
Your work here completed now,
You’re with mom and dad tonight.

I will cherish all the laughter,
“Checkin in” at the end of day.
The latest gossip going around
Or something we forgot to say.

So goodbye to you my brother,
I’ll still keep on loving you
And carry you with me forever
In everything that I do.

I came to visit the great outdoors.
To see the tranquil waters there.
To feel the peace in vast wilderness;
Home to caribou, moose, and bear.

Danali “ the great one” majestic,
High enough to be heavens door.
Its peak keeps company with the stars;
A mountain meaning so much more.

I came to visit this land of dreams.
To let its quiet sooth my mind,
Where bald eagles dance with the wind;
Symbol of freedom for mankind.

Only in Alaska “ the great outdoors”
Wild is free to come and go,
To a place where time has left its mark,
Where the northern lights still softly glow.

High on a hill
In rolling fields of green,
I’m lost in this moment-
Lost in a dream.

Afternoon sun
Dressed the valley below,
The quiet revealing
A wondrous show.

Songbirds singing
Beneath a summer sky
In meadows of clover
Pleases the eye.

In the distance-
A squall line made its way
Along great mountain peaks
Darkened with grey.

Passing this way
When I was a young boy,
Walking next to my dad
Brought me great joy.

Time slips away
In a blink so it seems-
I’m still finding joy in
My field of dreams.

I crossed the lonely meadow
Covered in a quilt of snow.
Pine and spruce on the far side,
Branches ladened, hanging low.

The light of the morning sun
Brought a sparkle to frosty air.
A cloudless blue sky above
Was invitation to be there.

I left the meadow behind
Seeking shelter beneath the trees,
And found within a haven,
Away from cold winter’s breeze.

Inside this spruce plantation
Where trees tower overhead,
Stillness fills the heart with peace
Without a word being said.

I’ve only left my footprints
In that meadow brilliantly white,
The silence there unbroken,
Untouched beauty to please my sight.

With tackle box and favorite rod
The young boy knows the way.
A place to fish, a place to dream,
A quiet place to spend the day.

It really doesn’t matter much,
In rain or hot sun.
Yes it’s true, he came for the sport
But mostly he came for the fun.

He takes his place upon the rock
That nature has carved smooth.
Trusting it will always be there,
For years, his rock has never moved.

Baiting his hook, he gives a sigh
Sitting down on his rock.
He tips his cap a certain way,
Resting his legs from the long walk.

Fond memories and great stories
Made here beside the stream,
But most of all he’s found a place
Where he can always come to dream.

When night and day run together
And your fear and troubles great,
Go to that place beyond despair
Where hope and fulfillment wait.

Reach out o tired and trembling hand
For that which seems beyond far.
It’s there and waiting patiently,
Hope, a gift, a shining star.

Find strength in friends and family.
To your god there’s always prayer.
See beauty in your surroundings
Made for you with loving care.

p.s. Reaching for hope takes courage.

On this cold winter evening
In woods filled with new snow,
We stopped to rest the horses
Beneath branches bent low.

In a still muffled dimness
The trees beckoned to speak.
While the old wooden sleigh frame
Sat settling with a creak.

The team given a whistle
And harnesses a shake,
Chimed the ringing of sleigh bells
Worn by Jerry and Jake.

It’s both magic and wonder
That stirs the heart within.
The forest, a cathedral
Where some have never been.

Walked into the forest
With a stick for a cane
On an old logging road
Now just barely a lane.

As a steady snow fell
I searched for fresh tracks
Even looked for some sign
In the ledges deep cracks.

Crossing streams that once ran,
Now lie frozen and still.
Leaving narrow ravines
On this side of the hill.

Beneath stately white pine
Where its needles are deep,
Gave soft bedding for deer
And warmer place to sleep.

The view of camp humpty
Came back into my sight.
I laid down my old stick
And wished the forest good night.