Palms trees sway side to side
Fanning their green fans attach
Cooling each other from heat
From sizzling Sun above
Beating down warm rays
Bathing crusted palm trees
Dotting along the coast
Stretch from miles and miles
Along a southern beach
From distant lands she comes a flight
On eagles wings perched high
Her golden hair like rays shine bright
Eyes of sea blue catch the light
Where she comes I do not know
Upon eagle wings she fly on
Scouring for what I do not know
Over lands that stretch far and wide
She searches throughout the sky
Some kingdom hidden among clouds
So soft and billowing are the walls
She is a warrior with her bird
Flying high above the skies
Seeking entrance to kingdom in the sky.
Rivers rage against storms
Rivers float quietly when calm
Rivers lazy meanders slowly down
Rivers dry when heat beats down hotly
Rivers change to ice and freeze over
Rivers bring joy when fish jump out
Rivers are the source of water
That brings so much to nature
Open your eyes to the world beyond
Nothing is the black and white;
You think or have believed in.
See the color that rains down.
Immerse yourself in its many shades
Each one different than the next.
Not one is same as the other
As they are their own special one
With what and who they want to be.
How does love come to us?
Does it fly upon eagle wings
Soaring high above the sky?
Does it grow like trees
From tiniest seed to tall trees
We see all around us?
How does love come—
From across the oceans
Upon the moving waves?
Does it come and wrap
Around us in some invisible way?
Where does love come I wonder;
Does it come from deep within us?
I run with the pack;
We are one in the spirit
As we chase our prey;
The caribou who runs ahead.
Like a motion blur
We blend together
To chase our prey the caribou;
Who will sustain and nourish us.
I am part of the pack;
We are one in the spirit;
We are a pack of noble wolves.
Fast in winged flight birds fly past
Dots in the sky there’s lots;
Bringing their voices to rhythmic ringing
Belt the chirping loud I felt
Sounds from above I stand on the grounds
Listening to their music as I caught feathers glistening
Through branches to which they flew
Sitting; chirping a tune so fitting
I hum with them as I look for them.
Fingers fly upon the keyword;
One letter at a time tapped out
Till they come together to make–
Words then sentences upon the page
To form what the next great story;
The next great poem to be read out loud.
Tap, tap, tap; the fingers move
Like a well oil machine
That knows what to bring together
The next best work of writing.
She grooms her gardens far and wide
Large they reach almost to the skies.
She dips her hand among the rivers
To give her gardens a drink so fresh.
Lately she cries for her gardens
That once were green; now turn brown.
From others who burn and cut down
Her gardens she so tenderly care.
Raindrops of her tears fall upon;
Her gardens she hope to replenish
Back to life; that once were green.
One strand of refine hair
Lies motionless as I stare
White hair with brown tip
Upon the keyboard it sit
From one I know who it belongs
For somehow hair got flung
When shaking her whole body
Near where I sit and write.
She let loose her furry hair
For now it scatters all around
Telling me a brushing is needed
To rid her body of loose hair
That continues to scatters all around.