The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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Video of our Hike

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The boys and I took a little hike up on the hill to look for wind damage after remnants of hurricane Ike came roaring through on Sunday. The wind storm, with 78 mph sustained winds, knocked out power to much of central Ohio on Sunday, over two million folks affected, and much of it has not been restored. We were very lucky not to have lost power even though much of our county did. I have been off work all this week so far and it could go on for a few more days (hopefully ;-)).


Anyway this is a 360 degree video starting with a look at our house from the top of the hill and circling all the way around back to the house.

The Hobbits are heading back to the Shire.

Comments

Anonymous said…
"Before me peaceful, behind me peaceful, under me peaceful, over me peaceful, all around me peaceful."
:o)
10:37 AM
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