Pleiadian Skies

 

Pleiadian Skies

Pleiadian skies beryl and white,

an ocean of stars a glow,

pouring over the mountain tops,

to streams and rivers below.

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Artwork created on Night Cafe

Rumors from the Attica Flutes

Rumors from the Attica Flutes

There’s a storm of fire gone unseen

hidden behind the shadow’s screen;

right here on this planet earth

the place that holds what we are worth.

An anxious and a sinful place,

controlled and made by human race,

where every greedy thought takes root

and made a unit of law to boot.

Where Attica flutes of hades sing

those sour notes of cutting strings

that swallow all the gods through fear

in cyber orbit above this sphere.

Such iron bars do now unfold,

with Cerberus guard dogs that they hold,

that fiber optic censored glow

invoking AI storms below.

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About this Poem: Inspired by a Henry David Thoreau poem called,

“Rumors From An Aeolian Harp”

The Morning Veil

 

Photo Credit to "Mandy Lea"

The Morning Veil

Sun breaks through the morning veil

bathes the flowers in golden hale,

florets rise with arms outstretched

embrace their God of life and death.

Rising higher, to mountain row

radiant praise, essence aglow

sunflowers sing their glorious tune,

a cycle of life, by sun and moon.

There they stay until sun goes down

hushed to sleep on silver ground,

bathe in moon beams, dew and rain

and wait for God to come again.

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Wolf Spirit

 

Wolf Spirit

Rhythm of drums brought the fog

consciousness of the wolf,

summoned spirit of the warrior

he chooses who he comes to see,

for bravery, courage and resilience

are the words he speaks.

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Waiting

 

Waiting

Comfort shades brown peering eyes,

there amongst the scent of birch.

Hidden under greying skies

and autumn leaves upon a perch.

Snug and safe from hunter’s game

but ready should the need arise,

to tap into his sturdy frame,

despite the smallness of his size.

A quickened pulse then in his chest

as trappers near, he holds his breath.

Lessons learned now put to test,

one false move could be his death.

There inside he sees it all,

traps are set amongst the grass.

Plans a route to warren hall,

waits until the hunter’s pass.

Silence reigns as sun goes down

a calm return to forest dome

to then emerge from underground

seeking comfort of his home.

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The Ancient Forge of Magic Rings

 

The Ancient Forge of Magic Rings

Celestial fires washed away

the golden age of Argonauts

where magic things long forgotten

remain but ashes of old thoughts.

I stood in wonder, mesmerized

in the cave I had discovered.

An ancient place deep underground

with artifacts I recovered.

Beryllium rings, crowned with stones

of ruby and blue sapphire,

for kings and queens and overlords,

that were forged by dragon’s fire.

Twelve magic bands with scrolls attached

concealed in a granite box

with embossed designs in ancient tongue

on layered metamorphic rock.

I stumbled on this hidden place

that was filled with bygone things

in the Monteregian mountains

the ancient forge of magic rings.

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The Phoenix Moon

 

The Phoenix Moon

When the phoenix moon rises

and bald eagle takes wing

the timber wolf howls

and mountain fires spring,

Aphrodite will return,

heaven will once again sing

covering earth in warmth

and renewal it will bring.

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