The Seasons: A Poem

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

A boy forever be

D enjoying the Parish Fall Festival
The joy of youth knows no bounds
Whether forest, field, or town
Endless zip and star-filled eye
Oh dad, just one more time

One more time on the swing
Or down the grassy hill
One more time myself to fling
Wild, and laughter shrill

My heart is full from his
A lesson for me to see
Live with love and joy
A boy forever be.

This boy continues to stir my heart.  After watching him play ALL day yesterday at the Parish Fall Festival I was a little jealous of his love for life.  It's a lesson I need to learn over and over.  While looking at this picture I composed this little bit of poetry because my heart was so full.  I guess you could say it was an Epiphany of Beauty.  Check out some other Epiphanies of Beauty here.

Comments

Christine said…
Thanks for linking up!

You "guess" that's an Epiphany of Beauty?

It most certainly is! A lovely poem!
James M. Hahn said…
Thank you for the opportunity and your kind words!