The daffodil cried out to me
Look until it hurts!
Your little eyes such foolish spies
Shall quickly feel my quirts

You never saw such sight as me
And never shall again
Beauty such as mine you see
Was not made for man

This sight you sought is dearly bought
Even though most wondrous
Those thus caught must be taught
Become my Erymanthus

Erymanthus was blinded by the goddess Aphrodite when he saw her bathing naked after she had made love to Adonis.

From ‘neath the dead brown leaves.
A burning bush has sprung
A fire of such bright yellow
Like looking on God’s face

How this old heart heaves
To know a thing so young
Could touch a frugal fellow
With gift of God’s own grace

We walk, we stop
Looking, listening
No words pass between us

maybe one short whistle
if I choose a different path
than the one he started down

His head turns quickly, his ears alert
A deer, a bird, a squirrel?
We synchronously freeze, awaiting confirmation

A doe approaches-we are lucky
The wind is behind her
Amazing how close she gets

A moment of communion
Then she jerks her head
Flips her tail, is gone

Tumultuous sky
Greys and blacks
Darkness from the north  

Wind so loud
You cannot hear
Waves crashing to the shore

Though trees bow down
You raise your arms
Face into the gale

Like some new Moses
Fleeing Pharaoh
Faith overcoming fear

Singing some soft Sufi song
Becoming feathered one
Rider of the Wind

Eyes are windows to the soul
Showing what’s inside

But when I gaze the lake
See herons flying in the fog,
I realize

Windows work both ways
Filling us with beauty
Reflected in our eyes

First Frost
Is on his way tonight
Winter wind’s grim reaper

Some can be saved
By being brought inside, some not
Triage in our tiny home

Geraniums overwinter, but not Impatiens
Their watery corpses will haunt us all for weeks
Cut them off

I go to do this deed
Cheating frost his victims
Fighting fire with fire, cold with cold, death with death

Some pots are not as pretty
Gotten gangly
Or turned pale and yellow

These are easy to dispatch
Or relatively so
As clippers cut soft tissues

I save the best for last
Thinking twice
Perhaps keep them a while?

But in the end
Decisions must be made
Sharpening the blade

One princess of a ***
Shining in her prime
Attracting butterflies of lime

She is the last
Am I up to this task?
I do not know

I hold the limb, but hesitate
Its not too late
To change my mind

Killing beauty
I fear we both shall bleed
Though only one be dead

Searching for some solace
I pray a prayer
Forgiveness sought from her

As you walk amongst the forest
Brushing aside his strands
Ask forgiveness of the spider
We are all in God’s hands