celebrating trees

smell of pine trees, under half-moon

wafts citrus, musky as burnt wood, 

we inhale deeply fragrant breeze

recalling season of spring - soon                                         

soft are needles veiled in deep freeze

under half-moon, smell of pine trees

dark sap, scooped earth, trickling slowly

of zest, upon pine cones wholly 

fresh.  we make ardent wish:  peace, berth

under maple trees - brown, closely

tuffed by light, we witness green birth-

trickling slowly-  dark sap, scooped earth 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form is Sparrowlet.  

Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

Maybe A Missed Connection

It could have been, maybe, it might have been

Deep dive to sea of passion, leading to a chapel 

Who knows but the wind, spinning tales with grin

It began with friendly banter, light as pins

Harmless I thought, but for you, a secret, an apple

Oh - what could have been, maybes or ifs of 

Had you looked at me, not with a twinkle of a pal 

Had I taken a small bite of your blushing-red proposal

Who knows but the wind, spinning tales with grin

I remember your face, filled with sunlight, a bean

Shivering with energy, the look of an open book - I missed..

it.  It could have been, maybe, it might have been

Had you held my hand, so boldly in another time 

Spinning me in a dance, kissing me up my spine-

Whew!  Maybe the wind knew, spinning tales with grin

Rewinding the clock, our paths entwined

Would lead us - here - our hearts bespoked- 

It could be another tale to "might have been"

Only the wind knows, spinning tales with grin

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, After St. Valentine Left the Building, hosted by Sarah Connor.  Thanks for the visit.

Monday's list

pastel pink and aqua blue tints

slowly nibble away heavy fog of winter greys

look:  caterpillar of clouds

on cusp of blossoming

there is joy in mindfulness:      

quietude of mornings

crisp air from pines, maple trees

smell of warm buttered toast with fruity smoothie

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - hosted by Mish. Quadrille is a post of 44 words, with the chosen word, nibble.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. 

Heavy Snowfall

                                            

Sleeping Maple Trees

 

blued, bloodless, brooding

is the sky, my hands savor

mapled squash, wild berries

Credit

I currently live in Canada for the last 17 years.   While we are burried under winter snow right now, earth gifts are warm & colorful.   I look forward to the late winter when the maple syrup would be taken from the maple trees.

Now, we are in the deep of the winter season and everything is iced over the  field and garden in Ontario, Canada.   The color of the sky even at night is white, reflecting the winter ice below.    Spring is still far away (April).  Yet we have fruits like squash, carrots and blue & red berries to bring color to our meals.   I also make a lot of soup from squash and the other root vegetables.  Maple syrup is part of our baking and drinks (instead of using sugar).

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics:  One of Seventy Two Seasons - Hosted by Lisa.