Getting the crops in
Final season of bounty
Autumn arrives in a deciduous county
Colours set to bloom
Forest greens taking on hues
Red, orange and yellow
Purple and white
Resting at your feet
Painting the sky
Scattered on high winds
Falling leaves
Apples to pick
Sunlit, stony vista
Radiating heat
Few things live in this place
Somewhere near the peak
Secret life, sleeping threat
Sighs escaping vents
Swell, then awaken
Fire on its’ breath
Picking my way through unknown lands
Tangled depths
No paths or steps to follow
No sign of sun or stars
Hidden lives in the hollows
Sheltered from without
Ancient lineage
Roots in the boughs
Looking out at the landlocked coast
Deep forests like the sea
Unexplored depths
Beneath the canopy
Where light never shines
Brooks passing through
Feeding roots
The century giants
Evening bloom takes the eye
Drawing in for night
Quiet garden in the last light
Tucks itself in tight
Time for rest
Bud, beast or man
All sleep to pass the time
All silent in their beds
Foreboding horizon
Dark skies approach
First a distant rumbling
Then the sudden cold
Wind, rain and thunder rolls
Like waves, the crashing lightning
Silhouettes of the oaks
Bent like a coward’s back
Under threat from summer skies
Painted shades of grey and black
I’m back, and perhaps a little worse for wear. I hope everyone had a pleasant weekend. I spent mine up north, and relaxed a couple days. I don’t leave the house often, so it was a nice change of scenery, even though I lived up there for a decade. I passed by a couple of my old haunts. I was happy to see they’re still around. If you’ve never lived in northern Canada, you probably wouldn’t like it, but the trees and the hidden glades are as much a part of me as I am of the mosquitos.
Enjoy the rest of your day, wherever you are.
Warm regards,
J.C – Lloyd
Familiar blooms, taken for granted
Planted in good faith
Things aren’t how they used to be
The seasons seem to change
No space between
From winter to summer
Shorter falls and shorter springs
Flora struggling
Harder to take root
Cracked earth, bearing little fruit
Try to outrun the weather
Clouds sever, disconnected from the sun
Bearing down
Storm brewing in the door yard
Hard rain
Soil begging for days
The dry spell is over
Sky coming down in waves
The green returns
Life’s yearning in the shades
Songs of Spring
Sung by smaller things
Hid away beneath the grass
Some rise, some fall still as you pass
Compound eyes, iridescent sheen
Insects at their work
Some below, some come on wing
thInkStains 