The conflict of myriad raindrops ,
of marbled , thundering intimidation
Of pagan streaks of fire jettisoned from
black , whirling leviathans* ...

The driving rain is a catalyst
for change , for opening hearts
or tearing them apart , for poetic
muse , for paying your dues , unencumbered
on the golden rail or a first class ticket
to certain hell
The drops tap time outside my window
A trickle a trifle to a deep crescendo
With innuendos of a special nature ,
midnight functionality failure ,
belaying the cliffs of Dover
one wrong move , into 'the Channel'
and over

A ray of hope across treacherous seas
A red maple leaf falling in the autumn breeze
A smile from the heart
A glowing fire on the hearth

The sapphire surface was dappled
in April sunshine
Evergreen seeds soared in the
morning breeze
Bluejays , Warblers and Finches
announced the rite of Springtide
Songbirds of every color replied
from her hardwood canopies
A psalm from every tree
A shower of blessings unto me* ..

Charcoal sylvan settings drawn with quills of silver-
and blue as crickets play hypnotic , bucolic evening tunes
The call of nightfall dove beside the very miracle of everlasting love* ...

Golden days among dancing trees
With agog bees tapping on windows ,
dragonflies carried on fragrant windsong ,
where yellow butterflies alight in spring
meadow , topwater explosions 'neath lakeland
palmettos
The music of April enlightening sable woodlands ,
o'er crystal spillways unto brash brooks ,
carry the news of the day harper bluebirds ,
curious cardinals , laughing crows , bronze sparrows
within 'boisterous redtip hedgerow*' .....

Along Port Lake ,
where my emotions are at their apogee ,
With the blue heron , the smallmouth dancer ,
beneath the river birch , sycamore and
cottonwoods in withering days end
Beside golden waters in the sun swelled eve
Where God's artistic brush gently tints her hardwood
trees* ....