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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The Pale Blue Light: Poem

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Pale Blue Light

I stare at the screen upon my hand,
Oblivious that you are here,
You call my name again, “dad”,
My grunt says, “yes, my dear”.

Your little eyes wait patiently,
A paper in your hand,
Filled with wondrous colors,
Your vision of a far, and distant land.

Still, I stare at pixels, and scroll, and scroll, and scroll,
The excitement you wished to share - fades,
Dies, as you see the blue light in my eyes,
You put the paper on my lap, but, there is a toll.

I stare at the screen upon my hand,
Oblivious that you are here,
You call my name again, “dad”,
My uh-huh says, “yes, my dear”.

The years go rolling by between us,
Like the scrolling of the screen,
The screen that gives no meaning,
While life remains unseen.

You stare at the screen upon your hand,
Oblivious that I am here,
I call your name again, “my love”.
Your grunt says, “yes, I’m here.”

You hold my feeble hand,
That once held that wretched screen,
That blinded me to real life,
And left so much unseen.

As the light in my eyes begin to fade,
You hold my hand so tight,
But with your other hand I catch a glimpse,

Of that damnable pale blue light.


Need help detoxing from your phone or other technology? Check out these helpful links... If you liked this poem, my new book of poetry, The Last Dragon and Other Poems is available now. 


Click here to read more from James M. Hahn - Blog - Books 
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God bless you - Jim Hahn
* Contains affiliate links. No, that doesn't mean that the kids should leave the room. Rather, it means that if you click on a link, and if you purchase something, I may get some financial remuneration for that click and buy. All that means is that my kids will finally get to eat, just kidding but I may get something, just so you know...

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