soft light thru the dark wood-
sound of music fills the hollows-
Ozarks night at Copper Run
***
fast running creek -
tumbles to the tune of the Ozarks hills-
whiskey weather
***
liquid night in the Ozarks -
moonshine flows -
sweet as spring water
Naiad of Table Rock
grazing in the shallows of the rocky cove
wreathed by dragonfly wings
wide mouth filled with silvery minnows
with a flip of her tail
she is gone
the Riverman’s eldest Daughter
sleek as an old catfish
glistening in the milky light of the sun
makes her way to deepest pools
waiting for the chance
to knot fishing lines of the unwary angler
and tangle treasured lures
in hidden brush under the surface
of the cold fresh water lake
some think her a mermaid
but many scoff at the tales
until when out casting
late at night
in the dark of the moon
they see a vision
too large to be a common fish
her back scaled and iridescent
trailing bright phosphorescence
in the murky water
silvered hair floats above her
to the surface
as she takes their bait
and runs deep and fast-
another one that got away.
*** for dVerse prompt to write of mythological creatures – thought I would include our local naiad – pretty sure I have almost caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye – what was that big splash?
May Garden 2013
Record breaking snow fall May 2013
Yes, it is snowing in the Ozarks in May!
rosy cheeked dawn-
smiles across the cove-
making the water blush
***
sweet dawn tip toes down the ridge-
leaving the newly leafed trees golden in her wake-
April morning
***
she sings songs of tulips and apricots -
lilting melodies of birdnests and starshine-
harmonies of blue skies and soft April
In the Pond, I Saw
ribbons glisten with fragile
black polka dots of life
ribbons spooled
as though a special present
was joyfully torn into
and the wrappings left
to fend for themselves
lovely elegant skeins
filled with the future
summers evening music
of frogsong
distant bells toll -
deep sound of contemplation -
sunday morning
***
loud trilling song -
small brown wren -
sunday hymns
***
small brown chipmunk-
sitting on the stone wall -
morning prayer
warm humid air -
moving the white curtains -
evening dance
***
sound of scurrying in the grasses-
small brown rabbits leap in the field -
the yip of a fox
***
night sounds -
low hum of the refrigerator,
trilling song of frogs,
the wings of owls
little yellow suns -
root side up -
digging dandelions
***
warm day in the garden-
out with the clover and dandelion -
in with the compost and mulch
***
tow headed sprites -
beckon from the garden-
astilbe and the fairies
The Irony of April
Surrounding herself with daffodils and wearing woolen socks
She sits in her sunroom
Watching the snowflakes fall
Wrapped in gossamer and heavy cashmere sweaters
She sings a robins song
Whistling the tune of peepers and mudpuppies
She rocks to the sound of the north wind
As it rattles the frosted windowpane
And shakes the pollen sugared cedars
At her dancing and mud booted feet
Scattered piles of stacked
Seed catalogues and dusty novels
Wrinkled faded forms
With penciled in blanks
Orders for fields of sunflowers
Waiting for the soil to warm
Under the sleet covered ground
Marsh Song
Ancient mother, old crone of the woods,
Awakens from her winter slumber
To slough the gray pallor
And return to her mossy green back
Her agate eyed stare watches
Over her ink dotted children
Black comma’ed offspring
Creatures of water and air
Little gods of change
Neither fish nor fowl
Born to one elemental force
Alive in the gullied water
To then find legs within to fly
To the essential element
Air lunged and full in the oxygen
Sky blue green and tree filled
World of moss and mud
And spring marsh song
*** Bob cleaned out our little pond and waterfalls on Sunday and must have disturbed this old gal. She sat in the swift waters of the falls and washed her face then found a nice little cave to sun and nap in. We have strands and strands of frog eggs draping our pond, soon tadpoles and then in early summer the tiniest of tiny frogs will emerge – the course of our seasons!
