April 13: I Stumbled Into Daisies

 

 I Stumbled Into Daisies

 

 Hiking to the mailbox this morning in the fog,
I cut across a meadow, misty and hazy
And stumbled on a clump of grass
And planted my face in a patch of daisies.

They smelled lovely so I laid there awhile,
Contemplating the softness of the verdant  Spring
Rolling over on my back I took a little break there
In the grass. The fog over me a live thing creeping

It took a while to get my feet back under me,
The fog began to slink away across the land
So, I followed it resuming my early stroll
To the mail, a fistful of letters in my hand.

From the road back up the lane to home
Little patches of sun play among the leaves
Along my path, burning the dwindling mist away.
As upward the little wisps of vapor weave.

There are days like this that sneak up on you.
Days that leave my collar damp, and air
That thickly hangs, then all in a sudden sunburst
I can breathe again and the morning's fair..

© 2024 by Tom King
 

 

 

April 12: Music From the Other Side of the Woods

Music From the Other Side of the Woods

Coming down the stairs just now I heard the sound
Of children's laughter drifting through the trees.
Like tinkling bells on the other side of the wood.
Carried on the scent of fir and cedar all the way to me.

I'm gathering evergreen boughs for my darling girl
 To festoon bookshelves, window sills with verdant drapes,
The sort you need to proclaim the coming holidays
 With red and green and just the right touch of snowy 'scapes.

I set off in the direction of the those merry voices...
And found a grandmother with two kids in tow
Exploring the woods behind their Grammy's house;
Giving names to puddles, ditches, trees that grow.

That dry ditch they named Collin's Creek, anticipating
  That seasonal rains will provide them water in the Spring.
The patch of grass ringed by evergreens like Christmas
"Is Evelyn's meadow," Grammy says. "Where wrens and juncos sing."

I can't reach the branches of the Douglas firs high overhead,
But a couple of drooping cedars give up boughs for free.
The breezes sigh among the treetops. I walk and listen;
Laughter of children, wind like music in the forest sings to me.

Finally, loaded down with fragrant bundles, I turn for home;
My old knees crackling, popping protestations all the way back.
I smile at the noises of my well-worn bones - percussion that
Compliments the music and woodland scents that waft along the forest track.

The chill breath of autumn riffles maple leaves and sends whirligig seeds
Twirling down, brushing past me on their way to earth.
I'm glad to be gathering holly and cedar boughs on a day like this.
Reminds me what a woodland walk can to a soul be worth.

© 2024 by Tom King

April 30: Seventh Summer, West Coast's Warming

 

 

 

Seventh Summer; West Coast's Warming

The drizzle ended early this year.
   In April when the showers come heaviest.
It's a seventh year and the sun is turned up high,
   The heat will lower the lakes not fill them.

In April when the showers come heaviest,
   But the rain doesn't come, so my bones don't hurt so much.
The heat will lower the lakes, rather than fill them.
   I will lower myself into a lawn chair in the sun.

But the rain doesn't come, so my bones don't hurt so much.
   There are perks to a west coast dry spell.
I will lower myself into a lawn chair in the sun.
   I appreciate the break from relentless drizzle.

There are perks to a west coast dry spell.
   It's a change I welcome. Hey, I'm from Texas.
I appreciate the break from relentless drizzle.
   Though it means I'll have to water the birds and plants.

It's a change I welcome. Hey I'm from Texas.
   Drought is what we do out on the edge of the prairie.
Though here it means I'll have to water the birds and plants,
   And feed extra peanuts to the squirrels and bunnies.

 © 2022 with Tom King

April 25: Like a Song in the Night

 

Like a Song in the Night
          by Tom King

Something sings in the dark
In the wee hours before us.
Sings me off to sleep in peace
And night birds join the chorus.

Something about the early dark,
Night full of the moon and stars
Drifting overhead with the planets
Making music Venus, Jupiter and Mars.

The night in its silence makes song,
You can hear it if you're still and quiet
And in the distance galaxies play music
And stars and nebulae run riot.


© 2022 by Tom King

April 14 - Ripplin' Waters

Ripplin' Waters

There is no peace can be found
Quite like that of a murmering stream.
Me wrapped in a hammock in the crisp woodland air.
Drifting in and out of a dream. 
No rumble of the air conditioner,
To paint over the clean summer heat,
Just a soft cooling breeze off the river, scents swirling
Where the forest and the river's breaths meet.
Deep is the slumber by rippling waters.
A clean kind of tiredness all through.
Muscles stretched loose from paddling all day 
In rapport with a drifting canoe.
Let me sleep many days by the river yet,
Before my long voyage is done.
Give me peaceful days by the rippling waters,
Swinging softly in the afternoon sun. 

© by Tom King

A Country Boy and Girl

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Country Boy and Girl

We live up among the trees; second floor garage.

She and I have always been drawn to places

High up and for us sometimes a little lonely,

Blue sky above; below the broad green spaces.

Fine places to bump along, warm companions,

Holding on to one another on dark and rainy nights

And building fires on cold and blustery days.

In December, stringing up the Christmas lights.

Leaves blow across the drive as we walk down

To get the mail and disturb our doe and her fawns

Nibbling at the blackberries growing on either side

Bordering the backyard verges and fresh-trimmed lawns.

Our path is marked by God; hedged about by His creation,

Nudging us along the way that He would have us go,

Winding up in quiet places by lakes and streams, in woods

And here where the breathy firs and ardent brambles grow.

We’re country folk, even when we live in towns and cities

Vegetation seems to sprout around us of its own accord,

Softening even asphalt, road signs, wires and concrete -

Fluffing up a nest around us a gentle gift by a kindly Lord.

We don’t mind the confines of a nest so much.

These days it feels the right and proper thing for the days,

That come upon us quiet-like almost unnoticed,

And hugged us warm about through all our yesterdays.

© 2017 - Tom King

Rain on the Skylight

Rain on the Skylight

It’s weird, lying here, looking up

Rain dropping from thousands of feet above me;

Pelting down, reaching terminal velocity

Splattering against the plexiglass a few feet from my face.

I wish all roofs were clear and you could see

Through and straight on up into the sky.

Skylights are stingy and even on a clear day or night

They only grant your eyes a narrow view of heaven.

By day the shafts of sunlight in neat rectangles

Track across the carpet, reminding me,

That time is passing and I should be

Out the kitchen door to join the open spaces.

At night, I have to shift myself about the darkened room

To keep my eye upon the scarred moon’s face as it sails by overhead,

Peering down through the plastic as it passes, yet,

Ignoring me altogether, accompanied by the stars.

Because I cannot live outside these days,

I must content myself with my little windows

And the narrow piece of sky it grants to me for comfort
And the wider peace of heart it nurtures in my soul.

© 2016 by Tom King

April 15 - The Dandelion Gardener

The Dandelion Gardener

I'm a practical sort of gardener

  I prefer to be at oneness

With Mother Nature in her breath-taking

  Majestic mighty solemness

She casts her seedy self across the Earth

   Her children in the fertile ground she sows

And in the spring with birdsong for an overture

   Up from my lawn the dandelion grows.

My neighbour goes to work each spring

   With spade, weed popper and a hoe

And gives to me the evil eye when he

   Sees how my dandelions grow;

Bright yellow faces scattered 'cross my lawn

   In gay profusion everywhere.

And my poor neighbour can't believe

   God meant they should be there.

© 2014 by Tom King