THE SEASONS
SPRING'S SPRING
Tulips, daffs on wings,
Chant their loves and flings.
The colors unfold
With boldness that holds,
That warms against cold,
That wakes the soul's sleep.
. Promises it keeps:
It parades God's love
Marching through the frost,
And with a silk glove
It traces One design
On each red ripe mind.
You were there, I know.
You approached with stealth
A thief or a Knight,
We danced slow and tight.
We wed and we bled,
Worms in a flower yes bed.
Spring was Sprung, we sang
With no guilt pangs.
First sight, us, first sound
It left our hands tied.
Foreplay was a tide,
To bind us in stride.
It moved us with springs
Trampolines and strings.
We, the music and air
Moved with beat and flair;
We tasted a mare's
Docile, humble stare.
Spring was a big scheme
Bigger than any dream
It was God's Grape Seed
Converted to wines
Sprouting up new rhymes
To spring forth great deeds.
SUMMER'S STAY
There are many who say
They could live forever
In summer's heated play,
In the dreams lived by day.
Short nights, long days sway
The vision of light.
We trust in Ever
We have fullest sight
. The costumes are Eden
No sweaters or coats to coat
Soft skins exposed, no moat
To my castle of hope.
We tasted beach air
We bathed in the fair
Drops of true ponder.
We sated salt hunger.
Too hot to think
The hour is a tee
That waits a golf ball
That will never leave.
Time has slowed me down.
I am a live flower.
My summer is brief
In cut flower reefs.
In a seeing tower
Dolls don't have power.
Toys are for pleasure
Tongues are for measure.
The hour I treasure
Has hand-woven clouds
To feather my pillow
To fly from my doubts.
For it is in Summer
That faith meets a drummer
To wean souls from mothers
With heartbeats and signs
The design is brilliant,
Clear and resilient
It's in the green green eyes,
Green veggies to fry.
Its in the scent of lime,
The Aquamarine ring,
Its the promise of things
That can't outlast their rhyme.
In Summer's stay,
We, foreign strangers
We visit and dine
Life's kind and divine.
Summer dwells on islands,
in sands, coconut fare
. We became I, one brand:
"Love", God's true name for care
Autumn's Tall Tales
Autumn's high treason
Lies with bright colors
To hide the sadness
Of dying reason
. The show is fast, slick.
One day's warm and thick
With deceit. Then comes frost,
To Make us nuts and lost.
We reel from the whips
Of chill blasts from
Within; we kneel from
Fear, cold fingertips.
To then witness the feats
Of true magic so old:
Red, Orange and Gold
Sunrise painted on Leaves.
Or is it sunsets
Coloring the trees?
Is it all warning?
Or a friendly tease?
An Emperor, a Throne,
Apples, pears and gaudy tones
A glad mix of high and low
There's a party that's bold!
The Last Party, a wake?
Or an effort to awake?
Clues are everywhere
Thoughts, too ripe, are spare.
Confusion and Disillusion,
We are told 'be wild'.
My ride won't be mild.
My Garden dies a child.
Autumn, the killer,
Of all lovely it withers
Pretends with banquets
While giving us shivers
Gifting Hope or Travail
As it races ahead,
Red Ferrari's speed
Breaking our limits in deed.
Suddenly there's a flash,
We know now its an art:
Sunrise and Sunsets
Are both ends and starts.
Autumn's longTall Tales
Are bedtime stories,
Autumn's strange Legends,
Also praise our glory
Autumn teaches patterns
We can the us celebrate:
We should have faith
In the Beauty we create.
The Creator was Wise
Warning to winterize.
Yet, the Temporal is praised.
We, in the end, are amazed.
All is for Nothing,
All is for All
Love is for Nothing
Love is the All.
WINTER'S LIGHT
There is a Winter's Light,
It slices silver's might.
It cuts clear and crisp
Through Mind's muddy mist.
The sharpness is severe,
Trees without their leaves,
Show all amidst the freeze:
Science is truth revered.
There are branches, brown veins,
And capillary lips
They feed on ice licks
Deep in ground's domain.
The story of the cold
Is blue chill, blue shadows.
White meadows, white arrows
Kill the weak, kill the old.
In the winter's sigh,
Purple pain fingers die,
Red, red hot cheeks survive
By the red love fireside.
There in the hardened sight,
In the frozen lead pipes,
We hear our children's fate,
We hear our breath too late.
The white wind yells and stings,
The stiff cry with aches
On crystal lace woven lakes.
O sorrow, alone I sink.
Don't fear the Winter's Light,
Sunrise's light escapes night.
The pallet is heaven's surprise,
The Colors above are alive.
Sky yellows, violets, pinks.
Are the light that make us think.
For they contrasts with a wink
The dead white despair at hand.
We can yes glide this test.
The sky is a bed where we can rest.
Let light's needles stitch our souls
With unknown magic thread.
Then the sky its music will share,
And be the notes to carry, tame
The sadness within our shame,
With pink tones upon our frames.
For we can glow with every show
See sky's paint draw every bow.
Winter's Light sketches death as a flow
To Seasons where Love's the main reason.
Copyright 1999 by Lana Deym CampbellOther Places to go:
