I traverse the dense pinewood by rote
Through wiry entanglements
Crossing red dirt roads
Engaged to no one , respectful to every
briar , berry and stone
Filled with the music of forest rain
Rummaging fauna , damp floor fora
of bird , sweet breath of multitudinous
country flora , roebuck and windswept
question , hardwood umbrella stops along
the way in timely , unshaken order
Content in where I belong
To close the circle for awhile and belong* ...

Courtesy of the vehicle dubbed VA pain killer
I write to you of colorful birds and lakeshore
thrillers
Of tree frog songs and cicada harmonies
Of carefree , meandering walks through
piedmont bogs , encounters with wild hogs ,
arms outstretched before thunderstorms ,
days of persnickety yesteryears , bare feet
encounters with green pine cones , days on the
farm , old flames clinging to my unsteady arm
Midday naps in tractor barns , old school country
towns and backcountry yarns* ...

Bluebirds under the farm bell
Rejoicing in morning rain , relaxing
for a spell , patiently awaiting their
turn to sing a tale , sailing from house
to cover on the minute without fail

Gray squirrels working the oak leaves
Busy , busy bees , up and down
the hardwood , jumping from tree
to tree , filling their tummy's with
acorns in the sun drenched canopy

Mr. Roseberry's smithing a plow
Greasing his tractor , counting his cows
Milling corn to feed his chicks
Thrashing creek cane and filling the
molasses licks* ...

Spider silk is alive , clinging to window frames on blustery air
as cold rain strips the trembling trees bare
The ever changing colors of November render thoughts free falling and
untethered , emotions under control by impatient winter weather
Dancing vortices , colored parachutes vying for the surety
of the uncertain earth* ...

A storyteller wears a denim blue blouse with a caramel , marigold apron
Her children wonder aloud ,  seeking eye contact , relishing her approval
Exploring leaf strewn trails through forested countryside apartments
Bearing joy constrained with certain peace beside the wildflower,  carpeted alluvial shoreline* ...

Do come by and visit for awhile
To see the frost tinted wild grass reflections -
across this placid pond
Hunter bass breaking the surface at Dawn
To receive natures community at every turn
alone , eyes locked in Heavens blue window* ...

It's noon in a postcard town
Pedestrians gather on tidy city squares
All I can do is stare
I've nothing to offer save for a song
A tough performance before a bitter throng
Most people need nothing but a beat
Like this monotonous street
Where heartless people haphazardly meet
Walking head down , focused on their feet
They've no time for meaningful lyrics
It's a sad time for music among these urban cynics* ..

Autumn days along Port wood-row
In search of the morning fiery glow of frosted moors
Recalling the doors of my very soul to the crackle -
of frozen lakeshore , the infusion of frigid visible breath
in resplendent newborn sunshine , the rhyme of windswept
Pine , the rapport of Woodpecker and calling Finch , reflections
of Carolina blue sky o'er Gods placid , mirrored waters
Home of steaming evergreen bottomland and rock bass
river dancers , November leaves sailing the script of the
Alabama western wind , the regal prance of Whitetail Deer
to the Mourning Dove euphonic call and answer* ..

A deadly task at hand , see the November broom sage conforming with the lay of the land
The smooth stones are secure in their creekside homes
Adolescent Crepe Myrtles abide in the company of elder Oaks
Every plant allotted soil and very much aware of their place
Under the ever meandering compression of man with a valuable lesson of humility and grace
Behold the wall builders , the ceiling setters , the clothed and the rambunctious
The soil breakers , the ravagers , the fire starters , the problem
solvers mingled with the war mongers
The breath of creation fueling their thirsted conflagrations
Behold "the thinkers" , destroyers and the manipulators* ..

Sky seeker , tall wonder with carnation red cloak
Doomed bush vermin , cornered red oaks braced in the treetop shadow
Strolling tearful wire-grass purple meadow
Copper thicket avenues tinged in nutmeg swirl
Mellow voices from the songbird world
Faces within Sugar Pines , white mountains
in Alabama sky , the eye of God in newborn
western twilight , the breath of cool salvation ,
quickening , trembling , addressing , correcting
The door led to the heavens opened , the hall of
our galaxy exposed , the untold wealth of starlight
tending our burden with unrecognized answers ,
the meandering whirligig movements of my time continue predestined

Evergreen soldiers at the whim of Alraus
I've had a recurrent dream of the enlisted warriors
abandoning their post , occupying the fertile grassland
in a chess type move to gain control
Free of shade , of root-bound thirst , of choking
moss gathering unchallenged in overpopulated arbors
A celebration courtesy of the Robin Knights , the Chickadee troubadours ,
the Cardinal gentlemen at the Court of Queen Chestnut
Slash , sugar , loblolly and white oak
Persimmon , hickory , honey locust and dogwood
The myrrh of gardenia , magnolia , honeysuckle and tea rose
Earthen red clay , white sand , black loam and kaolin
Grasshopper cellist , cricket flautist , a chuckling crow with a
Spanish guitar
The toad trombones , a bluebird violin solo , a mockingbird reads
a touching poem that even sways the worker ants into a brief pause
The Old Forest becomes pasture and the grassland young woodland
The dove cue the night , the katydids croon to the moon ,
the bullfrogs 'pooka-dooka' and the lovers swoon* ...

A birds-eye view of Hill Country bound
for my celestial reservation will most
certainly create unbridled hesitation* ...

Fall sunshine
Silver spider yarns in flight
Pirouetting Maple exaltations ,
fledgling Bluebirds , not a cloud
in sight , Mister Mockingbird call
the roll of Fall with all your might
The butterfly dancers , the honeybee
determined , the Woodpecker drum
major , the violinist , cellos , the piccolos ,
the sagebrush pianist