Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “wind”

24 Oct 2015

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

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29 Jul 2015

Let Go the Wind

Leaves applaud the wind
in sudden outbursts of joy.
Wild adulation.

Harder to impress,
bough and bole just nod and sway.
Grudging approval.

But roots slumber on,
unmoved by windy speeches.
Blithely unaware.

And I let it go.
I take it into my soul
Then I let it go.

 

#15

 

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14 Jan 2013

A Biodegradable Old Bag

A plastic bag hangs in a tree,
billowing and startling, popping and snapping
at every gust of wind.
No breeze is too slight to escape
her rustling displeasure. 

The constant buffeting tears holes,
deflating her, shredding her to ribbons
until, voiceless, she can do nothing but
flutter helpless streamers,
as though signalling for help
 
as one by one,
the bio-degradable ribbons
slough away, to whisper a while
amongst the sighing grass before
dissolving into silence.

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10 Dec 2012
2 Comments

Chinook

It starts as an arch out on the horizon.
Soft, aqua blue in milky, white skies and
I know that it’s coming,
Chinook is coming,
warm wind is coming today.

Then the first breath begins, the snow laden branches
quiver and start to release avalanches.
I know that it’s blowing,
Chinook is blowing,
Warm wind is blowing today.

Then the snow dervish swirls, all heedless abandon,
carving yesterday’s snow into sculptures at random,
I know that it’s dancing
Chinook is dancing
Warm wind is dancing today

I punch through the snow drifts, Chinook creeps behind me
and fills in my footprints. They may never find me
And I know that it’s restless
Chinook is restless
Warm wind is restless today.

Just before snow melts right down to the ground
Chinook loses interest and blows out of town
And I know that it’s leaving
Chinook is leaving
Warm wind is leaving today

#352

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , ,
09 Nov 2012
4 Comments

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.

#321

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , ,
04 Jun 2012

Spring Hopes

Hope springs eternal
Spring hopes are eternal too
That’s why we garden.

Though deer nibble shoots,
bugs skeletonize leaves and
aphids slurp plant juice,

late frosts breath icy death,
too much rain, or too little,
drown and parch in turn.

Quack grass strangles roots,
the wind sucks the soil dry,
and slugs vandalize.

Northern gardening
has it’s challenges, it’s true
but hope springs, Spring hopes.

 

#163

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