The Seasons: A Poem

Posted by on
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
0

Deer

Posted by on
When I looked out our front window this morning these two deer were laying in the grass. I couldn't tell what sort of animal they were at first. I knew they were living because I could see their breath in the cold morning air. When Nicole went out to take care of the chickens they jumped up and watched her. Eventually they ran up into the woods behind the house but not before I snapped a few pictures. One of the deer is injured and has been hanging around the farm for at least two years now. Her left front leg is broke or disabled but she survives.









Comments

Steven R. McEvoy said…
I cant help looking at them and thinking 'how many days till bow season' or 'mmmmm venison'!

Book Reviews and More
McEvoy's Musings
6:11 PM
James M. Hahn said…
They're fun to look at, a challenge to hunt, and a delight to eat!
10:59 PM
Post a Comment