Blog, Poetry

The Hike

Walking along the beaten path, trodden down by travelers past.

A creek runs parallel along the way, upon the banks it’s ripples play.

A twig snaps from some place near, it is my friend Mr. Deer.

The yipping of a fox heard from afar, telling me stay where you are.

This terrain can be a beast, it isn’t easy to say the least.

The beauty that I see, worth the trek to me.

The raccoon wears his menacing mask, foraging is his task.

As I near rabbits scurry away, after I pass returning to their play.

The squirrel it’s agility freeing, is content with being.

Hawks glide above with style and grace, something special is this place.

Poetry

Awaiting Spring

Nature brings us ice and snow, in time cold will secede to the Heat. Soon colors of green begin to show, old man winter will retreat.

We see the children in the park as they play, their laughter lifts our Spirits High. The birds sing inviting spring to stay, happy and content to keep them we try.

Rabbits as they hop to their destination, taking time to fight along the way. The trees buds begin to sprout, along with the perennials left lay. Spring awaited a treat no doubt, she is beautiful a day like today.

The queen bee searches for something to eat, after her winter in solitude, the butterflies beauty cannot be beat, along with the bee shows his gratitude.

The Woodpecker taps the tree to show it belongs to him, he doesn’t like to share. Frogs and tadpoles start to appear, the frogs in the distance we hear.

Soon it will be time to fish, spring awaited and answered wish.

JILL L. WARE

Poetry

Finding Fall

To find the colors of fall you don’t have to look far, They are all around wherever you are.

The Hickory with colors of golden bronze, across the lake the breeze it’s leaves calms.

The Birch with the color of bright yellow, calling after me as if to say be my fellow.

The dogwood with leaves of purple red, as if it says words left unsaid.

The poplar with leaves of golden yellow, standing out as it screams hello.

The Tupelo with colors of red, soon its leaves will be dead.

The mighty oak its leaves golden Brown, it’s nuts the squirrels take down.

The sugar Maple with the color of Orange red, soon its leaves it will shed.

The ash colorful and its purple,yellow and red, sorry Birch I choose the ash instead.

Cool nights sitting by the fire, of this life I will never tire.

Watch the colors change when you can, this beauty provided to us by the Man.

Blog, Poetry

A Fall Day

The flag blows as to say, “Look at me!”. The ever changing colors of the trees.

Chimes hang from the gutters with care, the tunes they are quite rare.

The brass bell swaying just a bit, awaiting my departure in the trees the birds sit.

The sky a vibrant blue, fluffy clouds stare back at you.

Mums, gourds, pumpkins and spice, all that makes everything nice.

Today a day for the books, a fall day as beautiful as it looks.

Jill L. Ware