Brett Palmero
Brett Palmero
2 days ago

In a city of gold
Lies a forest
Though quite old
It is my nest

Upon the wind
My name is sung
A hand they lend
When life stung

The sun shines
Through the leaves
Erased are lines
Allowing growth of seeds

Down the road
You'll find the lake
Beauty, the sky showed
A new day to awake

This is where passion burns
This is where birds sing
This is where a student learns
This is what Lake Forest is

Lake Forest College
Cherie Nolan
Cherie Nolan
3 days ago

Up ahead past frozen trees,
lies a timeless crystal valley,
while some still stand unfrozen here,
in rows of wooden alley,

I step in past behemoth guards,
who protect a prism palace,
as cleanest waters pure and clear,
rush down on earthly ballast,
a chance to sip of sacred wine,
inside a holy chalice,

Roots run deepest in this spot,
away from light,
while tallest branches touch the sky,
all blanketed insnow,
as orchestra's of crystal chimes,
prepare another show,

When one should gaze upon it,
this ancient wooded sight,
as steam is rising steadily,
as daylight moves to night,
night draws down it's curtain,
as stars now shine a lovely light,

Your breath is taken with it,
& frozen there in time,
as daylight changes scenery,
angelic voices chime,
when telling of the beauty here,
I'd say this place sublime,

A wooded lucent heaven,
it's hard to put in words,
I close my eyes to dream again,
and listen to the birds,
and for every other lovely sound,
I hope my ears have heard,

My breath & I,
just cannot linger,
in beauty's frozen place,
where every branch is laden white,
on gaurded trees of ancient grace,
where all adorned with icicles,
& brilliant snowy patterned lace,

The atmosphere is full of vapor,
as the dew point has been hit,
condensing incandescent tears,
low flying clouds now sit,
so near the ground in steamy fog,
translucently still lit,

It captivates my every sense,
as frozen gates unlock,
I do my best to look away,
though all I do is gawk,
I peer inside to check the time,
...if any on the clock,

Sadly here,
not time for me,
inside this sleepy glen,
where birds & death,
they wait assured,
a thorny crown,
in safest den,
boreal a chickadee,
the livest a tiny wren,

Perhaps to come another day,
I stay inside past frozen gates,
I cannot know the how and when,
my thread of life is cut by Fates,
the three Keres I see in there,
it seems I can't manipulate,

I do not know the way to here,
amidst the wafting fog,
when all again will seem anew,
in Spring & newborn frog,
where lovely woodland creatures,
come out from mossy log,

I so wish I could stay here too,
where now the only sound,
is one of snowflakes softly falling,
upon this hallowed ground,
I do not know where I am going,
or where I might finally bound,

Though I will try again in Spring,
to see my way back here,
I came here with a fear of death,
but left inside that fear,
as little Winter fairies whisper,
of hope into my ear,

I am grateful for today,
with new hope for tomorrow,
I'm walking out of here tonight,
relieved of all my earthly sorrow,
I walk ahead,
now unconcerned,
if no more time...
at all to borrow.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Hey everyone I've been away but I'm doing alright...sorry not here so much,
I'll check in when I can today, and catch up as much as possible. I think being grateful is so live from a place of gratitude. This is full of metaphors for life and death, acceptance of our time, breathing in the beauty it was a mystical spiritual walk as I pondered the fear of death. I carefully thought with felt inspired idk... while at the most beautiful, breathtaking place here I know to go in Winter.... sigh...
Influences of Greek mythology (the fates) and some of my other beliefs. Many thanks poets for always kind words and love - hugs VERMONT ❤ ❤❤
#poetry   #life   #death   #beautiful   #magical   #forest   #fates  
Dan Jamison
Dan Jamison
3 days ago

.            L
s         ­                                                 t        e      ­ b      e
                                                        ­        r        m      l

he          si                   ­                               ovhim(er)

              K                                     ­                                                                 ­   

I can't tell if this is pretentious or just shit.
#fall   #gone   #leaves   #forest   #pretentious  
Lydia Hirsch
Lydia Hirsch
6 days ago

I looked back at you like Orpheus looked at Eurydice.
I was afraid you would disappear, but you didn’t, though
the sun’s descent threatened to reduce you to a moving patch
of darkness. We didn’t expect to be out so late.

You were getting tired, and couldn’t keep up. Night hung like a
weight on your shoulders. But, I reminded you, we still had miles to go.
We had marched on forward, forgetting the way back was of equal distance.
Of the two of us, you were the more weary; this was your fault.

You insisted on running the first few miles to make up for all the times
you skipped going to gym this month. Death is around the corner, you said.
You’d like to avoid his approach for as long as you can. I tried to tell you
this wasn’t an exercise hike. It was a hike for beautiful trees of absurd hugeness,

trees that have been around since before the colonists took this land from the
Native Americans, before the Magna Carta was reluctantly signed, before Brutus
betrayed Caesar. These are trees that have seen it all, observed it calmly from their
rooted positions, the evidence of their longevity concretely present in the spirals

of their wooden bodies.

#trees   #forest   #redwoods  
Pagan Paul
Pagan Paul
7 days ago

A moments magic excitement
of a daring plum sunset
passes into a verdant grey.
A seconds glorious heartbeat
moves on searching eternity
painting the forest dull once more.

© Pagan Paul (2016/2017)

#metaphor   #sunset   #forest   #dusk  
Jan 10

the prairie led to a clearing where
a tree
ought to be enough to brush away the smoke

the spring by the clearing
had to kick the fire out before dark
it was risky

five months
it had gone on

looking for smoke
through the flat woods.

is like a forest,
so big, mystifying, and enchanting,
so evil, dark, and dangerous.

is like a tree in a forest,
one out of many but individually beautiful, with
amazing aspects
ordinary, overpowering, or underwhelming.

like a branch on the tree.
a part that makes something, different,
and wonderful,
differing, imperfect, and vast.

We are a part of the forest.

Everything has it's ups and downs, but we should really look at the positive sides.
#love   #life   #friendship   #forest  

Walking in the forest was I
when I heard a plaintiff cry
begging me to give her aid
a desperate and 'prisoned maid.

Locked up in a tower was she
all alone with her misery.
“I'll let my long hair down for thee
to climb up here and rescue me”.

I thought this was a little unwise,
a wicked glint crossed my eyes,
a knowing smile, and feeling smug,
I gave her hair a hefty tug.

Down she fell into my arms,
muttering curses, gushing charms.
Over and over we tumbled for fun
rolling about in the midday sun.

I had noticed the rip in her dress
so her thigh I did fondly caress.
Respond in kind she promptly felt,
loosening off my trouser belt.

And her father's lock on her chastity
was no match for my skeleton key.
Even though he'd chained the door
his daughter is a maiden no more.

© Pagan Paul (05/01/17)

If you go down in the woods today..... ;-)

growl, dear wolf.
your howls are longing.
show me your strength.

how can I, the wolf,
growl when my ribs hurt?
howling eases the pain.

growl, dear wolf.
the flowers are dead,
so don’t rest your head.

how can I, the wolf,
growl when no flowers grow?
they are dead, I rest my head.

growl, dear wolf.
the ocean is your friend,
just around the river bend.

how can I, the wolf,
growl when the ocean weeps?
weeps for one like me.

growl, dear wolf,
did you dare forget?
the ocean does live.

how can I, the wolf,
growl when the ocean foams
at the mouth when I get near?

growl, dear wolf,
the pain is not yours.
a lingering scar
from forgotten wars.

how can I, the wolf,
call this pain my own?
I’d like to take the ocean waves,
and let it become calm.

a wolf cannot growl
when its ribs hurt,
when its soul burns,
for a pain that isn’t it’s own.

the love story of the wolf and the ocean - experience (part one)
#pain   #wolf   #ocean   #forest  
Jan 2

Alone to she, the moon, he cries
Whose light is first to hit his eyes
He pleads for life to flare once more
-why, he is not alone.
Upon him befell tragedy
Like snow he trampled all to see
Though until slumber should blind his glance
-why, he is not alone.
The bear knows not enough to boast
For some seek his fall much more than most
Even once he shakes the earth
-why, he is not alone.

#poetry   #lonely   #alone   #sorrow   #forest  
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