I  love  to  walk  the  garden  long.
When  all  the  winter  storms  are  gone.

Yes,  snowdrops  are  the  first  to  show.
Majestic  heads  come  with  the  thaw.

Blankets  of  crocus  are  quite  a  sight.
Pushing  upwards  towards  the  light.

Colorful  daffodils  like  soldiers  stand.
The  finest  regiment  in  the  land.

In  June  the  roses  in  fancy  dress.
Reveal  their  splendor  for  the  sun  to  caress.

Dewdrops  form  as  summer  fades.
As  sharp  east  winds  sweep  up  the  glade.

The  flowers  then  close  their  weary  eyes.
And  sleep  once  more  till  spring  arrives.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

There's beauty in the night time

That no one else see's

There's an orchard in the forest

That whispers in the breeze.

There's a place I often go to

Known only by me

If I get to know you better

I might just let you see.

The bitter, night wind blows through my hair
Spring left April and now it's just air
But sometimes I just can't breathe
Blame it all on you, blame it all on me

The sky is dark and your eyes are the stars
A glint of something different behind the dark brown
And I swear that the man on the moon
Has absolutely nothing on you

Maybe sometimes you're a little quiet, a little sad
Pulling on the waves until they grow and crash
Just wait for the sunrise, wait for the morning
And maybe you could get some rest

Not every night has to be a full moon
Like every sky doesn't have to be blue
And not every star has to shine
But all in all, I wish they were mine

The man in the moon, the boy in the mirror
Everything suddenly seems so clear
Because you'll never again see someone so in love
With anything that hangs so far above

mother earth
Scared by human deed
her beauty fade to endless greed
her arms of green sent to mill
her rivers of life waste to fill
her eyes in smog lost its hue
oil spills hurt her sea blue
end doth her life without care
oh doth hearts her pain to share
green grasses frail and fail
Human deed acid hail
Art of human her face doth scar
tis our earth her end not far
call ye oh hearts to think
save her from extinctions brink

they    were      not      
     someone      you  
could        lust    over,  
they    were     fey,      
blood       not    running
   the     usual     way,  
they     made     me      
   dream    of    streams  
touched    by  moon
beams,    ice     cold    
  fields  at       dawn,      
every     season    I      
have    ever      known
breathing      within
    their     bones;    
dark      woods      were  
organs   once     stood;    
    each      touch    a    
   crunch      underfoot      
revealing   another        
layer  so       deep,      you    
doubt   you     will 
   ever      reach     the    
heart       of      its    beat.

Did there a shadow move
a stealthy feet
upon darkening bush?

The deer's woof
races heartbeat
before silence
closes like noose.

Will the pool
that beams the moon
draw a trunk
to the lure of cool?

And upon the wind
without a word
was it a streak
of a passing leopard?

The peacock cries
you're close to the ground
presence is aloud
in the slightest sound.

The jungle glows
in silver light
there are eyes
that spot you right.

I am not spring
frost thaws eternally
from shallow-rooted fronds
tenuous and unbound
susceptible to wind's constant round
battering the living flat to ground
sodden, smell of decay all around
time is fleeing
these shoulder seasons
with all their restless reasons
yet to unfold in you
sun-soaked glade
I need your rays
to germinate