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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Snow

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I love snow. We've been waiting for a long time for some this year. Friday it was in the teens so I decided to get up early and go out into the woods and try for some pictures of deer or whatever else might come my way. I saw one deer but not till after she saw me. I didn't have a chance to get a good shot but I sat down against a tree for a while anyway. I love being out in the woods and in the cold. I sat against the tree watching the sun rise and just praising God for His goodness. I did have the privilege of watching two noisy Redheaded Woodpeckers going crazy on some of the trees in the area. I took some video but they stayed hidden on the opposite side of the tree, but you can sure hear them on squawking and knocking. I took a picture of the house from up on the hill and some pictures from inside the house. One is from the kitchen sink and the other is from my writing desk. Let it snow!



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