"mountaining" poems
Where the air is thin and flowers grow a plenty
take me where it hurts to breathe
where the sun embraces me, so gently
and the towns are quiet but friendly.
We shall fashion daisies into wreaths,
watch as the aspen births her leaves
into crimson colors, so many.
Apr 28, 2023
Apr 28, 2023 at 12:57 AM UTC
In this mountaining valley we are one
So let us watch this birthing sun
It starts small but enthusiastic
It grows and consumes.
We feed it daily and admire its growth
How are you today my flower? we ask
I'm fukken great
is its response
It grows more on some days
And it barely eats on others
Sometimes we don't feed it, our lives too busy
But our sun is always shining.
The beauty of it has caught attention
Our smiles known when we feed it
those around us smile too
With this writing I prepare a meal,
our love burns all the brighter.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 6:12 PM UTC