Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “sun”

Tree Dreams

Trees dream of summer too.
Of days filled with the laughter of tender leaves
and singing rain.
Alive with the heart beat of hummingbird wings
and the mingled perfume of warm earth,
wild flowers, and ripe berries.
Stripped and slumbering the trees bide, knowing
one day the sun will rise with new warmth,
the wind will have dulled his teeth
from gnawing on ice and snow,
and water will chuckle once more.
But for now, the trees sleep on,
visions of summer yet to be
safe within their rings.

#102

I’m Going Outside (a haiku to today)

The sun is shining.
No poetry can outshine
sun on golden leaves.

 

#68

🙂

A Day With the Sun On Its Brow

Give me a day with the sun on its brow,
with a breeze ‘round its shoulders.
A day with a rain-washed sky,
blue as your eyes and deep
like pebbles down a well.
A sky where clouds have wandered
off to some fold in the horizon.

Give me a night like a sigh in the dark,
where the sky is as close
as a lover’s caress
and I feel the breath
of a million stars stir my hair.
Then I close my eyes and dream
of the day with the sun on its brow.

 

#17

Winter Solace

Winter’s getting really bad
when your houseplants die of SADs
and you leave on all your lights
to deny the longest nights.
But soon there’ll be a little ray
of hope to brighten up our day
cause once the longest night is done
we’ll start to see more of the sun.

#362

Greenhouse Glow

So there I was, just me and the mad dogs,
my English roots glinting in the mid day sun,
cleaning out the greenhouse.
Telling over old pots, faded seed packets, and leaky watering cans
and why do I have three of those little fork type hand tools
and only one trowel? Taking everything outside and scrubbing
off the neglect, resigning myself to consigning
the worst to the rubbish tip.

Yes there I was, the sun spinning around me
when you found me and shaking
your head said “look at your shoulders, they’re bright red”
and I looked although I knew you wouldn’t lie about
pain; current or impending
“Oh my, this is going to hurt” I thought.
I really ought to know better, and I put on
a shirt like closing the barn door and later that day,
aloe anointed, fiery red shoulders
banked to a dull glow, I sigh
“Oh well, at least I got the greenhouse cleaned out.”

#219

Sun Slants

Sun slants its rays past
vertical blinds in shadows
of bars on my wall.

Sun slants its rays through
prisms and showers rainbows
of light on my face.

Sun slants its rays midst
branches and leaves, dappling
patterns on my skin.

#181

Live Again

What good is sunshine in a windowless room?
How do you know if it’s raining outside?
What good is wrangling over maybes and coulds?
How do you know if there’s truth in the lies?

But one day the sun’s gonna work its way
through roof and wall and light it all
and the rain will wash it away.

What good are windows if they just face a wall?
How do the trees find a place they can play?
What good is staring at the same set of facts?
How many bricks are in a day?

And one day the trees are gonna eat their way
through roof and wall and turn it all
into molehill mountains once again.

What good, How do you do what you do
when you know that nothing’s ever gonna change on it’s own.
How do, what good is waiting for the rain,
and the sun, and the trees, because all of these
are waiting for you too.

Climb a tree, touch the rain
feel the sun on your face
and never wait to live again.

 

#179

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