#rushes - Hello Poetry

A rarity The rarest glint and sparkle that is the superficial covering upon the recent snowfall, inches its way out to the very extensions of the trees' branches. The golden glow of the amber sunset softens the chill of the evening light, reminding me of the after light of life's lessons. Which way shall I go? Shall I follow the fading, luminescent glow of the sunset, where the colors burn to the deepest oranges, purples and reds; where the passion and fire of the days' closure sweep you off your feet and ignite passions ardor? Or shall I stand in the patience of a dark and starry night until the gloam of mornings' edge brings the promise of yellowest brilliance and brightest blues of the light of day? There is the rub. The sting of time threading its way in and out of nature's complex quilt. In through one side and coming out the other… On one side, there is softness, lusciousness, comfort and warmth. The other, is filled with rich and vibrant colors that evoke innermost emotions, desires and delightful excitement. These choices do not seem to be options at all. They are here and then they are there, one moment fading into the next, as the snow thinly spreads its icy mantle upon the diverging branches of the mighty oak tree. How simple and yet complex the vibrancy of life's significance. Effortlessness and arduousness fight one another at cliff's edges. One saunters along the boundary of craggy and stony precipices. The walkway is clear and clean where the fields above gently wave their fair-colored daisies that bow and dip in the prevailing winds overhead. The sea beneath whistles, twirls and rushes, as it slaps and smacks its watery dispatch upon the rocks below. Frothy skycaps intimidate and yet also give way to sighing wonderment. This is a quandary. The expression that nature presents and pushes yet pulls the spirit and the very physical limitations of humanity. There is beauty all around. The thin veil of a lingering cover of snow on trees' branches, or at their feet, melting away into the muddiness of dying pastures.

0

Jan 12

Jan 12, 2026 at 6:02 PM UTC

nancy-jo-whitmore

A Rarity

A rarity The rarest glint and sparkle that is the superficial covering upon the recent snowfall, inches its way out to the very extensions of the trees' branches. The golden glow of the amber sunset softens the chill of the evening light, reminding me of the after light of life's lessons. Which way shall I go? Shall I follow the fading, luminescent glow of the sunset, where the colors burn to the deepest oranges, purples and reds; where the passion and fire of the days' closure sweep you off your feet and ignite passions ardor? Or shall I stand in the patience of a dark and starry night until the gloam of mornings' edge brings the promise of yellowest brilliance and brightest blues of the light of day? There is the rub. The sting of time threading its way in and out of nature's complex quilt. In through one side and coming out the other… On one side, there is softness, lusciousness, comfort and warmth. The other, is filled with rich and vibrant colors that evoke innermost emotions, desires and delightful excitement. These choices do not seem to be options at all. They are here and then they are there, one moment fading into the next, as the snow thinly spreads its icy mantle upon the diverging branches of the mighty oak tree. How simple and yet complex the vibrancy of life's significance. Effortlessness and arduousness fight one another at cliff's edges. One saunters along the boundary of craggy and stony precipices. The walkway is clear and clean where the fields above gently wave their fair-colored daisies that bow and dip in the prevailing winds overhead. The sea beneath whistles, twirls and rushes, as it slaps and smacks its watery dispatch upon the rocks below. Frothy skycaps intimidate and yet also give way to sighing wonderment. This is a quandary. The expression that nature presents and pushes yet pulls the spirit and the very physical limitations of humanity. There is beauty all around. The thin veil of a lingering cover of snow on trees' branches, or at their feet, melting away into the muddiness of dying pastures.

11

In my mind, I am too old to be having crushes, It takes Just one thought of you, and my Soul just gushes, I can't shake the feeling my heart Just rushes, I can't hold in my Emotions and My face just blushes, I get real nervous when you come around, the butterflies in my stomach don't want to settle down, I keep my composure trying to be cool, Just one false move will have me looking like a fool, I can't help myself, but What can I say??? I won't pay him no mind I'll just look the other way, focus on something other than him keeps it to myself, cos, in my heart I can't win, I wont tell a soul, I'll keep it on the Hush, I shall never, ever reveal to the world My Crush!!! B.R. Date: 2/6/2025

0

Feb 24, 2025

Feb 24, 2025 at 11:04 AM UTC

msbellepoetry44

My Crush

In my mind, I am too old to be having crushes, It takes Just one thought of you, and my Soul just gushes, I can't shake the feeling my heart Just rushes, I can't hold in my Emotions and My face just blushes, I get real nervous when you come around, the butterflies in my stomach don't want to settle down, I keep my composure trying to be cool, Just one false move will have me looking like a fool, I can't help myself, but What can I say??? I won't pay him no mind I'll just look the other way, focus on something other than him keeps it to myself, cos, in my heart I can't win, I wont tell a soul, I'll keep it on the Hush, I shall never, ever reveal to the world My Crush!!! B.R. Date: 2/6/2025

29

Vivid forget me nots feign sleep, their tired eyes tinged pink. The soap and chlorine at Lyme Regis bay doth stand to make me think About the way the rushes grow and what lurks amount the reeds, what gently dazzles behind closed doors and what we doth concede. Is the laurel leaf unfathomable? Is nature that way too? For I feel that I don't understand what every body seems to. The humbled bumbles rumbled buzz Satin saints upon our door We wonder what was here, And what was there before. The streaming stained glass waterfalls, were they always there? The sickled moon stands amorous, clotted clouds about his hair. Stately sit the beaded stars in a wash of sky, And still I sit, Still I sit, Sit and wonder why.

0

Apr 16, 2014

Apr 16, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC

Misser

Why?

Vivid forget me nots feign sleep, their tired eyes tinged pink. The soap and chlorine at Lyme Regis bay doth stand to make me think About the way the rushes grow and what lurks amount the reeds, what gently dazzles behind closed doors and what we doth concede. Is the laurel leaf unfathomable? Is nature that way too? For I feel that I don't understand what every body seems to. The humbled bumbles rumbled buzz Satin saints upon our door We wonder what was here, And what was there before. The streaming stained glass waterfalls, were they always there? The sickled moon stands amorous, clotted clouds about his hair. Stately sit the beaded stars in a wash of sky, And still I sit, Still I sit, Sit and wonder why.

26