A Tree is such a wondrous thing;

The wind hides for brief moments

In the safety of her branches,

And the Cardinal finds a place to sing.

Her leaves paint the country side,

With colors that are never the same;

Stoic, she stands in a winter's night,

Watching the snowflakes glide.

If only she could tell her tales;

Oceans of time have passed her by.

Her twisted look and wisdom gained,

In the stormy nights and windy gales.

© William Power 2012

Mist floats high upon the cool gray sky

Stillness broken by the red hawks cry

Dawn breaks slow in the mountains cool

Dewdrops form into a pool



Mountain laurel blooms fill the air

A Nuthatch sings without a care

Clouds float across like peaceful dreams

Brook trout play in cold clear streams



White pines tower, ferns carpet the ground

Sheer rock faces with waterfalls abound

Day lilies reach for the sun through the trees

Blackberries, muscadines, and honeybees



White tail deer run free and play

Black bear cubs sleep all day

Grandfather Mountain reaches higher than most

Cross her bridge and you can boast


Appalachian Trail runs through its heart

Through the Blue Ridge Mountains from its start

Breathe taking beauty for all to see

The lord and his handy work will ever be

© William Power 2011

Where do you come from my friend?

After you leave where do you end?

Sometimes I wish for your return,

Other times I am glad you are gone.



There are times when you are gentle;

Your movements, soft, cold, and calm.

Then…on the next occasion you're brisk and strong.

Is there anyone who knows your secrets?



I wonder if they know where you have gone.

None who stands before you can win,

And the clouds? They need you to rain once again.

Oh, I wonder, can I give you my sin?



© William Power 2012

My heart it knows both space and time,

A place that's filled with thoughts sublime,

Yet often comes that cold grey sky,

And brings the rains of tears once cried.



And from a broken heart it seems,

Comes shattered souls and broken dreams,

And as they move like crashing waves,

The setting sun my heart does crave.



And washing down the streets of life,

Are pieces of my desperate strife,

The rains inside my heart it seems,

Flow ever forth like rushing streams.



And when the quiet skies return,

Again for love my heart will yearn,

And faith will grasp at every chance,

To find again a true romance.



Forget the rains inside my heart,

To believe in love—a brand new start,

For love is truly a dying art,

Yes, a one true love will never part.

© William Power 2012

I've lived the dark nights of the soul,

When darkness creeps as black as coal,

The fear wraps thick around my skin,

I crawl and scream for dawn's bright grin.



The day brings peace and I soon forget,

How in the night lives my regret,

Yet the bell, I know, will ring again,

The night will show my fears—my sins.



Relief I seek yet never find,

The years, the fears, control my mind.

And if a God there truly be

Will he ever set me free?



The dark it comes like thick black smoke,

Across the floor—my demons float,

And in my bed I sit and stare,

It grips my mind and claims its lair.



So until when the sun will rise,

The fear and pain will scar my eyes,

And if a prayer I do not sing,

Will Gods redemptive bells still ring?