The Seasons that Mark time...

The seasons like life revolve around,

Marching forward with no glances back,

With no regrets, without a care,

Each marking the Solstice here and there.

Spring with all of its awakening glory

Sends breezes through winter chill,

Touching us and bring warmth,

Awakening the giants on the hill.

Summer comes in torrents of rain,

With warmth and sun to ease winter’s pain

Until fall returns in colors gold,

To tell the secrets that she’s been told.

Thoughts of Fall and Winter's coming!

And so its Fall

FALL

The worries of the ending year,

With fall so close and cold so near,

Have brought a sigh to woodland folk,

Who scurry quickly and gather so,

That wintertime in white so stark,

And days that start and end in dark,

Are lit by wood fires fed with love,

Granted to earth from above!

Sun and rain grow the good,

That gives us our supply of wood.

Pumpkins, corn and squash are dried,

To carry us to warmer times.

So scurry my little squirrelly friends,

And chop dear neighbors the wood that sends,

Smoke rising to heaven high above,

To thank Mother Nature for her love!

A Summer Storm......

Rainbow

A Summer Storm

Wind of summer’s discontent,

Trees and tearing branches bent;

Waking early to driving rain,

Is summer relieving herself of pain?

Dancing rhythm of the wind,

Echoes of thunder’s brash alarm,

Hidden deep beneath my covers,

I feel safe from summer’s harm.

Lightning breaking in disjointed form,

Striking down at earth.

Plant life and creatures holding on,

Clinging to life for all they’re worth.

Gray and somber the summer sky,

Dark, ominous, filled with gloom,

I look about in midnight colors,

Searching for a clue, why summer’s mood?

Perhaps it’s summer’s hidden anger,

Sweeping earth to rid it of its sins.

Perhaps it’s summer giving life,

Her love showed while being stern!

Now with great relief I sigh,

As the summer storm passes by.

I search the light that breaks behind

For any kind of hopeful sign.

Maybe beyond it’s blue and clear,

Hoping a rainbow might appear.

A Small Piece of the Country and its Barns

A farm near Palatine Church

A Small Piece of the Country

I own a small piece of the country; 

It is hidden beneath this shirt, 

Out of eyesight, unable to seen, 

Not to be found, touched or heard.

It is winter in its somber white suit; 

It is fall in its vibrating colors; 

It is summer with its kiss of warm breezes;

It is spring and all that is new.

I own a small piece of the country; 

It is hidden from view, 

In remembered feelings and words, 

of all the friends I knew.

It is open like a window, 

Letting in the fresh country air; 

It is golden like the morning, 

When the sun warms me there.

It is dew upon the grass, In the morning fresh and new; 

It is the sky, the night of the full harvest moon.

I own a small piece of the country; 

It is hidden in my mind, 

Of the fine folk Who make up the country kind.

It is the farmer harrowing his field; 

It is the preacher holding together his small flock; 

It is the neighbor helping a neighbor; 

It is my friends and their warm hearts.

I own a small piece of the country; 

It is my own special part, 

I own a small piece of the country;

I keep it here within my heart.

Following the Darkness to the Light!

The sunset approaches for us all!

I see the sunset coming closer with every day of my life.  This spot on Wellesley Island has seen it set for more years than I can know.  I sit and wonder how many people have sat at this shore before...in the same place...at the same time of day...and wondered how their life will end also.

I gaze to the Canada of today, though it appears at dusk the same as the Canada of "yesteryear".  The water the same rough and smooth.  The river the same..moving...moving...waiting to carry us all to the "light".  The light that comes to beckon us into the dark abyss of the here-after.