The Prairie Daze

The sway, the sway

Of golden grains

A golden day

Of sighing song


The song, the song

Of swallows flight

On autumn’s song

Of swirling breeze


The breeze, the breeze

Of warm caress

A whispering tease

Of falling sun


The sun, the sun

Of glowing life

On prairie dun

Of wheat fields sway


The sway, the sway,

Of golden grains

A golden day

Of sighing song


The song, the song

Of crickets singing

On a twilight gong

Of the ending day



I thought I would try something a little different; writing within a certain amount of syllables. While I usually stick to my own made up rules, I’ll try to keep it sounding good, over the rules I set. So, this was a quick experiment, that I will have to decide it if worked, later.


The Song

Black clouds that gather

And cover the sun

The storm on the horizon

Finally come

The rain drops that fall

Like the sprinkling of dust

The sound of the call

To come and dance

The music of rain

As it falls to the ground

The rhythm that comes with the

Whispering sound

The song that is gentle

Like a soft lullaby

Water lulling to sleep

As it falls from the sky

Ah the rain. I love the rain the way that everything smells so fresh after a downpour. Though, admittedly, I would take the heat over a grey gross day anytime, but there’s something about a summer storm that is invigorating. The way the thunder rolls, the lightning flashing across the sky, the fresh smell of the rain. I love it. Thus, the poem for you here today.

Sunshine and Rainstorms

When I wanted to feel like

My life was worth living

Tangled in the threads

Tangled in the strands

Of us

When we danced in the rain

Bare feet on the pavement

The grey rain sighing

The grey rain singing

Of us

When we both laid down

On the wet spring green grass

Telling a new day

Telling a story

Of us

When the sun shone

Trees dripping with sunlight

Highlighting a time

Highlighting a flash

Of us

When you told me you loved me

Light in your honest eyes

Showing a new truth

Showing a new life

For us.



Love poems. Sometimes cute, sometimes not so much. Though I will be the first to admit I have never been in love, I will also admit that love is not about the first sight. It is not about the ‘sex appeal’ or the ‘look’. It’s about that person. It’s about the way that they look at you. It’s the way that when you fight, how you deal with it. I have seen enough relationships fail – hem hem, Hollywood, anybody? – but I have also seen my Grandparents celebrate their fifty-first anniversary this year. I’ve seen my friend’s hearts broken, and a few relationships gone wrong, but I’ve also seen those couples whose love is reflected in the way their rings fit on their clasped hands. I’m far from the first person to run to when you need a little love advice, but I’m also far from the last.

The Dance Forgotten

When life was a song, and the song a dance

I would dance and sing, and sing and dance

I would find myself in the beat of the rain

When there was nothing left but all the pain

I would climb the trees of time forgotten

When history was made and history forgotten

When times were simpler, and full of life

I would remember those times, in the night

What sounds better than a howling wolf?

Singing about life as a lonely sad wolf

Singing to the lovely lonely silver moon

What sounds better, in the month of June?

High above in golden trees forgotten

A time of dark that I’ve forgotten

A time of blooming in the summer nights

High where I would come

And come to life.



And something a little different from most of the poetry I have written, a little more abstract. I will admit that I just let the words flow, looking for a little something that would give feeling rather than a pure play of words. Those are the poems that when they flow, you repeat them in your head for hours, just thinking about it. I was going for for feeling that anything else, and I feel that I might have accomplished it. Not my best work, by far, but something to share. Any feedback is welcome!