Oky

Okey dokey, it has been 2 weeks since I posted. I have no poem again . With Kim in the process of moving back in we have been ...alright, alright she more than me has been giving the house a through going over and rearangement. So i have been tied to the house and not getting out to nature. Only one more weekend I hope. talk to you later

What to say? What to write?
another week of a mild winter lets the time fly. The Old Farmers almanac  got it right for our neck of the woods.  The heavy storms hit the east coast. Here we are only into our 3rd snow of the season. The Pacific winds have kept the jet stream around the artic circle. Great for us bad for Europe. I hope my friends in Denmark are doing well.
Todays poem took root at the begining of the week due to a customers comment on the moon and what its name is for February. How appropriate for snow after the full moon.

Snow Moon

Silver Lady bringing

light to the

darkened hours

Enchanter of dreams,

with your kiss upon

each crown

in your unhurried

walk across a

winter night

Do you give a final

kiss for winter's end?

I think not...

Your touch chills my marrow

in nightly slumber

Where you tread

your frosty breath

leaves a coat of white

Even your name promises

no spring or warmth...

You have been named right

for February

I call you Lady for

your grace and beauty...

Truth be told ...

your heart is frozen

as should be

for the beautiful...

Snow Moon

ccd Feb 2012

 Here we sit this winter in  uncommon weather conditions. Europe is getting slammed and we are simmering in what may be considered early spring or late fall weather. I am not complaining, however I do wonder in what manner will Mother nature extract payment.
I finally received a poem. I took liberties in writing it. In truth there was no snow or ice in the stream bead. and the water runs freely sining a winter song. It is short but I hope it is ok.



Winter's Butterfly

At the feet of sleeping trees

a bed does lay

trimmed in winter white

Pillowed on ice...

a winter butterfly within

its' cocoon

murmurs in sleep...

 stirring soft dreams beneath

its' frozen blanket...

The stream

waits only for Spring's

first rainbow...

to shed its' cocoon

and share new treasures

ccd Feb. 2012