Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “water”

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.


The Stone Without Moss

I’m the stone without moss, slowly rolling uphill,
the pebble the stone kicks aside.
I’m the lake far below waiting patient and still,
watching the pebble’s long dive.

I’m the last rippled echo that runs from the pebble
and dashes itself on the shore.
I’m the hands in the water, cupping and dripping,
to the mouth where the water is poured.

And I stand up again and I gaze at the mountain
And begin my eternal ascent.
I’m the stone without moss, the circling ripple,
till eternity’s utterly spent.


Dewdrops steam
Into a dream
of cloud ascension
‘til suspension
bursts the dam and sets them free.

Raindrops dripping,
splashing, stippling
pond and puddle
washing mud filled
tributaries to the sea,

tithe the tidal
aqueous idyll,
water grumbles,
roars and rumbles,
every form and size and shape

Flume and fountain,
spilling, spouting
torrents gush,
and rivers rush
to estuarial escape.

Waves come reaching
‘cross the beach and
claw the sand
with hungry hands,
draining freshet, rill, and runnel

salty, swollen
sated ocean
‘pon reflection
pays respect in
cloudy offerings to the sun.

Clouds grow heavy
break the levee
drown the world
with water swirling
downpour, outpour, rippling rain.

And in the first
refreshing burst
the raindrops strike
and start the cycle
tithe and tears and tithe again.

Blown Away

Write my name on water.
Write my name in dust.
Write my name on iron
and watch it turn to rust.

Let my words go free.
Let them have their say.
Write them on the wind
and let them blow away.

Write my name upon the wind
and let it blow away.


Water Dreams

Streams and streams of water dreams
trickle through my brain it seems
that last night I imbibed far too much tea.
Brooks that babble, waves that crash,
water canteens slosh and splash
and wake me in the night quite urgently.

But not before they inundate
my poor brain with unrelated
images of soggy situations.
And just before the geyser blows
my eyes pop open and I know
the bathroom is my ultimate destination.

Water dreams, oh, water dreams
in glorious variety team
and wreak nocturnal havoc ‘pon my pons
My rem in remnants, my id all irked
I wake with hypnagogic jerk
bathroom bound again, with a yawn.

Three times, four? I can’t recall
how many trips made down the hall,
how many times those dreams awakened me.
Bleary with sleep fragmentation
I swear in weary exasperation
next time I’ll go easy on the tea.



Post Navigation