April 20, 2012 “thoughts on my daughter’s birthday”
***
daughter to father
is sunrise in the gloaming
golden beam of light
morning glory awaking
as dew drops glisten
lavender breezes blowing
beneath a blue sky
soft sounds of songbirds singing
to the yellow sun
fields of wildflowers blooming
blossoms of laughter
gentle rain on verdant hills
sweet water of life
©tlh 4/20/12
March 20, 2012 “evening”
“evening”
.
as I reclined on the porch
watching the mountains
relax from green into purple
evening sidled up on a gentle breeze
wearing pale coral and azure
with the fragrance of springtime
.
she softly slipped into the old chair next to me
left vacant by the setting sun
in the heat of day
she breathed a quiet sigh
of feathery clouds
and cherry blossom
.
we sat for a while in silence
contented to listen
to a mockingbird wooing his love
and a chorus of spring peepers
serenading down by the creek
we spoke not a word in our peaceful repose
.
serenely as she arrived
she arose to leave
as she went she asked
“shall I get the lights?”
I nodded sleepily
night fell to the rising moon
I slept
tlh 3/20/12
January 24, 2012 “hushed” (on the passing of my mother)
“hushed”
(on the passing of my mother)
*
a light has gone out
.
the candle that glowed in the window
is burned down to grey smoke
spiriting toward heaven
.
the path darkened
the way unlit
the door is closed
and the chair empty
the hearth no longer warm
the blush faded from the rose
.
muted is love’s comforting voice
beneath folds of white
and soft closed eyes
laughter is hushed
.
in a brighter heaven
we are greater for knowing that star
the world lesser without it
.
tlh 1/24/11
January 17, 2011 “winter’s reign”
“winter’s reign”
*
cold gray
bleeds from a lurid sky
trickling
over boney skeletons of black trees
standing
in murky pools of dead earth
and winter’s reign
tlh 1/17/11
January 12, 2012 “winter” Haiku
“winter” Haiku
howling wind spits snow
gnawing at hard frozen bones
ravenous winter
tlh 1/12/12
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December 30, 2011 “new day”
“new day”
let the dying year pass
give no more thought
to its bitterness and pain
it cannot be relived
only remembered
let go its scarred memories like tears
weeping away from eyes of the hopeful
to the promise of a new day
tlh 12/30/11
December 25, 2011 “Christmas”
“Christmas”
***
Footsteps trodden upon new fallen snow
make no sound at all
not a whisper in the hush
that blankets tree and field
mountain and valley
hamlet and home
as midnight gates swing silently open
candlelit window sills cast a faint glow on downy paths
lighting the way for Christmas
tlh 12/25/11
December 17, 2011 “Oh, Christmas Tree”
“Oh, Christmas Tree”
****
Fraser and Douglas trussed tight
lying on the sidewalk
bound prisoners with no way of escape
stacked like cord wood for a fire
price tags or toe tags
to trees they’re the same…
Merry Christmas!
tlh 12/17/11
December 11, 2011 “star-crossed”
“star-crossed”
+
today I chased the westering sun
to see him set once more
in a blazing sky and watch him race
to rise on a distant shore
to warm a face in twilight waiting
as he ascends the dawning day
to shed his light on a star-crossed lover
and drive the shadows away
but the racing sun outraced me
and slipped silently out of sight
to leave me in the lonesome shadows
of a star-crossed silent night
tlh 12/11/11
December 7, 2011 “freedom”
“freedom”
~~~~~~~
the river is up
not angry yet
but swelling as it flows
beneath a pouring rain
through a moonless night
groping along its banks
feeling with watery fingers
for a weakness
a way out
scratching
clawing at the edges of roads
and fields
at the foundations of houses
and barns
searching for an escape
on the verge of havoc
of destruction
rising to flood
and a chance at freedom
tlh 12/7/11
November 20, 2011 “frost”
“frost”
_
rooftop and fence
fodder shocks and haystacks
well house and chicken coop
-
a weathered barn,
the front half of a broke down red tractor
lolling crookedly from its shadowy maw
-
a rusted out old truck
held fast in its place by
tangled generations of
dormant honeysuckle vines
and a concertina of blackberry thorns
-
wintering grass like a carpet
gently rolling down to a Sycamore tree
its whitewashed medusan limbs
stark against an orange-tinted azure sky
-
all lay frozen
beneath a thick blanket
of sparkling crystalline frost
a landscape in etched glass
-
cold morning breaks silent and still
save for the slow swirl of the grayish river
slipping stiffly between its frosted banks
releasing whispering white ghosts of fog
to lightly dance into the frigid air
-
tlh 11/19/11
November 13, 2011 ” old mountains”
“old mountains”
*
the mountains of my home are old
as old as the earth
aged hard faces wearing smooth
with crooked spines and withered fingers
no longer reaching toward heaven
but falling back toward hell
deconstructing
shedding majesty for maturity
strength for sagacity
tumbling rivers for trickling streams
granite heights for trembling stones
misty memories lost in gathering fog
carried away by soft breezes
whispering gently in my ears
reminding me of old mountains
and relentless time
tlh 11/13/11
October 21, 2011 “autumn rain”
“autumn rain”
trees under an autumn rain
flowing out from a foggy mountain
in pleated ridges and hollows
shedding their rusting leaves
like flecks of burnt orange and gold
copper toned reflections of the past
and places I remember
when the sun shone bright in a careless blue sky
above the verdant summer of life
when living was easy under the shade of trees
that were there long before my birth
and will remain
long after the last rusting leaf is shed
to another autumn rain
©tlh 10/21/11
photo by tlh
September 17, 2011 “a thought on clouds”
“a thought on clouds”
*
clouds
crowded upon the firmament
of an angry sky
a herd of fat gray beasts
rank upon rank
vying for position
dark and dismal
somber and severe
sagging, heavy bellies
pregnant with water of life
travailing in labor
giving birth to a deluge…
precious rain is born unto the earth
some from violent storms
some from peaceful showers
some for rivers and the sea
some for flowers and fields
some for floods
some for the thirsty
or puddles or birdbaths
some to wash a dusty traveler
or blood from a battlefield
or tears
some to dance or sing
or make love in
some for rainbows
and snowmen
some to tickle the faces of fascinated children
then out comes the sun
and all return whence they came
to again become
clouds
©tlh 9/17/2011
September 10, 2011 “transition”
“transition”
arid summer rides
parched whirlwinds into September
as clouds of dusty red clay settle
under a cloudless sky
on yellowed tobacco leaves sweltering
in thirsty furrows of farmers’ fields
upon the backs of black cattle sweating
belly deep in a muddy pond
their wet black tails swishing
swatting at swarms of harrowing flies
the cavalier sun sailing
across the clear blue sea above
his infernal eye blazing
a golden path for autumn
©tlh 9/10/2011
August 28, 2011 “a dozen nails in a coffin”
“a dozen nails in a coffin”
hope
stolen by indifference
happiness
forfeited to gratification
truth
to ambiguity
kindness
to avarice
possibilities
given to doubt
decision
to ambivalence
knowledge
sacrificed for convenience
triumphs
swallowed by fear
tomorrows
bartered by yesterdays
love
lost in pride
life
exchanged for existence
somethingness
faded to nothingness
nothingness
is death
©tlh 8/28/11
August 14, 2011 “south of summer”
“south of summer”
skulking stray dog days
loitering in the back yard of summer
keeping autumn at bay on the porch
hold a slippery sweaty grip on the south
withered green leaves
wrinkled damp clothes
hang from limbs of thirsty trees and people
like limp dishrags boiling
in the oily evening heat
beneath tall condescending columns
of rainless clouds climbing
up a pale sky roiling
in shades of pink
east of the setting sun
over the sweltering horizon
an August moon casts his milky gaze
on the sloomy glow of lightening bugs
slow dancing to the jar fly’s gravelly whirr
and the tinkling of ice in glasses of tea
sweet relief in a sultry gloaming haze
©tlh 8/14/11
August 5, 2011 “fly on the wall”
“fly on the wall”
*
As I was having dinner tonight,
near the table where I sat
I saw an unsettling sight.
On the wall alit a house fly
wearing a cowboy hat.
*
The hat was brown fur felt and quite fine,
but the fly all in all was droll…
for it’s John B. Stetson when you go out to dine.
Any cowboy or fly worth a damn
wouldn’t be caught dead in a Resistol!
©tlh 8/5/11
August 3, 2011 “on watching an August moonset”
August 3, 2011 “on watching an August moonset”
*
The yellow fingernail of a crescent moon
scratches down the spine of a sultry purple sky
towards midnight.
*
©tlh 8/2/11
August 2, 2011 “wildflower”
August 2, 2011 “wildflower”
~~~~~~~~~~~
a wildflower in a rose garden grows
on a golden ribbon of sunshine
neath the shadows
by roots and black earth
beyond the white teeth of smiling wickets
out of reach
hidden from the pruning hands of a jealous gardener
behind the painted points of patrolling pickets
marching in rigid formation
a careful syncopation of shadow and light
shadow and light
guarding the beloved roses
from eyers eying and spyers spying
admirers admiring roses
~
the gardener swells with pride
at the blossoms blooming wide
filling the air with a fragrance of roses
seducing the noses
of passing passersby
gazing with enamored eye
at the roses
all the beautiful roses
~
but the wildflower
the tiny wildflower stands alone
perfectly petaled
pale purple little wildflower
singular beauty among beauties
as lovely in the mountain
as by the shore of the sea
or in the cleft of a rock
upon a grassy lea
~
the wildflower
needs not the nurturing hand of the gardener
nor the garden’s fertile soil
no trimming or clipping
no trellis to climb
or picket guard
or worrisome toil of any kind
~
the wildflower goes and grows where it will
how it will as it pleases for it pleases
to grow and its beauty to show
in a rose garden
©tlh 8/2/11
July 4, 2011 “mountain honey”
“mountain honey”
***
strong and sweet like her
golden soul of the mountains
wildflower honey
***
©tlh 7/4/11
photo: tlh
July 3, 2011 “back alley blues”
“back alley blues”
*
a slash of diagonal gray
slices through a thin crack in the skyline
dirty sunlight seeps down
dingy back alley walls
dripping between black buildings
dark spaces
with filthy faces
lazy, sleepy eyes
of half open windows
look through cataract curtains
half blind
pain lined
weeping sooty tears
of faded flowers
and the faded laundry
of real life
over jagged scars
of fire escapes
offering no escape
from life behind the curtains
acrid
oily air
crawls heavily along narrow passages
oozing over stained floors
behind chained doors
bearing the murmurous din
and stagnant sin
of a living city
and faint whispers
of far away
consonant strains
as a blues guitar wails
and a blues man sings out
for a better day
©tlh 7/3/11
Photo: tlh
June 22, 2011 “soup on sunday afternoon”
“soup on sunday afternoon”
________________________________
she
sits at the table in a dream
sleepy-eyed
snugly wrapped
against winter’s brrrrs
her face
behind a veil of steam
rising from a bowl of hot soup
he
sits opposite her with a gleam
satisfied
night-capped
his eyes steady on hers
his face
peers through her veil at a dream
as he asks if she’d like some more soup
she
sighs
and grins a knowing sheepish grin
he
sighs
and smiles a lazy loving smile
she
has more of his soup
he
has more of her
_________________________________
©tlh 6/22/11
June 19, 2011 “Virginia dreams…”
“Virginia dreams…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I walked into the midst of a river
to feel the cleansing water flow
to lay upon it my pain
to let it take my fear
a smothering blanket of sorrow
~
to cast upon its waters
what haunts my darkening soul
hidden prides and disappointments
unforgiven sins
that have taken a telling toll
~
to somehow loose the stains
that have tarnished me too long
the stigmata and bruises
and like stones let them sink
to the bottom where they belong
~
I lingered in the sparkling waters
in the wash of a relentless stream
I felt the water coursing
as I looked below the swirling surface
I knew it was only a dream
~
for the longer I stood in the current
the more I saw what I did not wish to see
I felt only a bone-chilling cold
for the man I saw in reflections
was the same man who walked in with me
~
when you find yourself standing by the water
if you think of me then you will know
in a sparkle, a splash, or a swirl
I gave myself freely to the river
and forever ride on the ebb and the flow
©tlh 6/19/11
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