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

Crazy Vine Contest - Answer

I received only one correct entry for this contest. Pokankuni knew the correct answer to be Humulus lupulus - known to the rest of us as Hops, one of the main bittering ingredients in beer. Since I love to make and drink my beer I decided to grow my own ingredients. My dream is to one day open a microbrewery or brewpub here in the Hocking Hills. You can check out some of my past homebrew work by clicking on the "homebrew" label at the bottom of this post.

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