Your hair is like a pair of wings blowing in the wind,
Sharing this moment with a bald headed man like me.
You could have been anywhere you wanted,
But you responded to me.
You left the defenseless sky to be in the arms of a tree,
That’s rooted by the ocean.
As the wind picks up, like a wave out the sky,
You try to hold onto my arm, instead of fly.
It means so much to me to know you don’t want to leave my side.  
But as the sunset’s and every brush of wind paints the sky,
I know you must fly, high, like the ocean waves, kicking back the tide.
No words could be said, not even goodbye.
And though I’d give all the green I have to have you by my side,
I will forever hold this feather of yours that you left behind, to remain, to remind.  

A bird in the tree is worth two in the sky/a leafless tree that holds nothing but a feather

I climb. Although a harsh wind and sleet sweeps
  these hills, my temperament remains steady.
Although the path is treacherously steep
  I have been thoughtful, I have come ready.
The footfall here is few and far between
  and some who came to conquer, could not cope.
As I push on past the point where they've been,
  I look into a mist that holds my hope.
Joy lies beyond a helm wind of despair
  and must be battled with to be surpassed.
I will prevail here knowing that it's there.
  I’ll conquer fell and fall so I’ll be passed
to where tranquillity abounds below,
  throughout the valleys of the rain shadow.

- Sonnet IX -
11:00 - 29/04/17

This is a revision of a previous sonnet. It's metaphorical and explore's why some people choose to do difficult things in life, despite having easier options.

The wind that blows
Clouds grow
Trees sway
The sound that they make,
the sound that's peculiar,
the sound is also an indication,
rains are here to stay.

It's a lull before the storm
The storm arrives,
followed by rain
Rains are here to stay.

As of now it's raining since a long time now
Just before a few minutes reached home sound and safe
In nick of time everything changed
Rains are here to stay.

Maple trees with kisses of oranges and golds make me feel quite whole.
The taste of pumpkin and spice is really quite nice.
The gentle fall wind holds a slight bite but I really don't mind; for it is autumn and the pumpkins are bright.
So please, please stay, my favorite season. I do love you my autumn delights.

This is my poem for my favorite season. I love autumn!
Michael Robert Triska Copyright 2017

Upon unspoken words,
I lie next to you.

Like a whispering wind,
I blow my kisses into your beam,
as I watch you devour my dreams.

Our love is like a beckon;
no ships will crash upon our shores,
as long as our moon shines brightly
from our lovers moor.  

© By Amanda D Shelton

Star BG 4d

Wind whispers,
with scents of flowers,
sounds of sacred birds,
soft swirling breezes.

The gale vibrates,
bringing suns bright rays,
children's laugher to hear,        
clouds able to dissipate.

Air enters,
gifting life for expansion
energies to anchor strong,      
wisdoms endless flow to travel,
The zephyr touches hearts,
guides waves to shore,
playing in grand sound,
as I whisper gratitude.
to celebrate life.

Star BG 5d

The tempo of the gentle wind,
tickled bonding with hearts song.
The musical beats rose in crescendos
to sing with birds.
It whispered in rhythms grand,
that travel on rivers waves.
It opened etheric wings to fly
in dreams divine.

It gave me a platform to echo my gratitude.

inspired by Cne

do you
pull me
In as a
and push
with the
of your
do I
end up
lifting my
to fly
back to
your storm?
I ask questions
only my heart
knows the
answer to

Poetic T 5d

I hear the rustling of the leaves colliding upon
the others like a bumper car ride but no one is driving.
Voicing in motions that they are moved silently.

I envision the swaying, like the crest of natures
wave coalescing like feathers in flight anchored
till the season ebbs there dance to a fall.

She sailed around the ocean
looking for the wind that could blow her
straight to him with ease.
She knew that with him came paradise
and a heaven within his eyes.
And there she goes again,
wherever the wind blows.

originally qritten 1/2/17
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