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Posts Tagged ‘Dennis Allen Lange’

muWQOZ6

More than a chair to see the world,
Are eyes that really see
The panorama of the plains,
The grandeur in a tree, 

The spiral in a sunny bloom,
The silver waterfall,
The beauty in a cloudy day,
And blue when cleared of all. 

There’s wonder in the falling rain
And in the sunny day.
We simply have to have the eyes
To see it in its way.

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photo by Kevin Tuck at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/muWQOZ6/Chairlift+seats

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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pX0r9Xw

Alien
Provided power:
ET trick.

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photo by Robert Linder at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/pX0r9Xw/Daredevil

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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airplane taking off

The slow parade, the idle wait,
Then suddenly a roar
As if the lions as king of beasts
Were all declaring war.
 

No matter if the concrete looks
As smooth as sheltered bay,
There’s rattle and there’s rumble as
The tires roll down the way. 

A quietness then within the roar
Like donuts with a hole.
And quickly doubled (quiet and smooth) –
The fish leaped from the bowl!

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photo by Fisher

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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mifCl0M

Maze dead end
Frustrates, is painful –
A maze zing.

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photo by Lars Sundstrom at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mifCl0M/Infinite+Maze+2

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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IMG_9244_1

I love the slowness of the autumn rain
That does not pelt like bullets from a storm,
But floats like languid butterflies to gain
A waiting blossom, landing without harm. 

I love the ambience of autumn rain
That falls between the glaring summer sun
And harshness of the winter’s frigid pain –
A yearly brilliance that does always stun.

I love the colors of the autumn rain,
When north winds shake the clouds that once were green
And from them fall the leaves that entertain
And soothe our lives till they become serene.

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The photo is mine, taken in Vermont (I think) this fall.

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

 

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imageedit_1_6385562188

NFL
On field politics –
Offensive. 

In response,
We will boycott –
Defensive.

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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okPTT1q

Fall is a flaming river flowing
Between the burning sands
Scorched by the sun and hot wind blowing
Through Summer’s heavy hands,

And Winter on Fall’s other shoulder,
Which broods and speeds its day
As northern winds grow cold and colder
And blast limp Fall away.

But flames upon the Autumn river
Don’t burn except these two:
Gray Winter with its jealous shiver;
Green Summer since it’s through.

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photo by Johnny Berg at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/okPTT1q/Forest+bed+in+autumn+-+HDR

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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podyHoc


Sand castles?
No, castles made here
Hardier.

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photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/podyHoc/rocky+surfaces5

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.
 

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raven

On Friday, cars were parked along the road.
The next day saw their silent numbers swell,
Drawn there as if they’d heard the black bird’d crowed,
Pulled by the pealing of a solemn bell. 

That Sunday was the same, but Monday more.
They filled the drive, parked curb-side by the house.
The street was narrowed by that swelling shore
Which forced a car to creep by like a mouse. 

By then, I knew what I had not been told,
The dreadful news for family and friend –
That Winter’s wind had blown, and growing cold
Was some soul who’d been sick but could not mend. 

Days later, I passed by; the cars were gone.
The mystery was solved for I could see
The novice widow walking on her lawn
With only her small dog as company.

He’d built my house and now he is no more.
My house still stands; ‘tis he in disrepair.
We mortals, not the mortar, go before.
We each will leave our all to Earth, our heir.

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photo by Guenter M. Kirchweger at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/omDmxpC/raven

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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ppfOPRa

Erasing,
Two ducks on the pond
Swim and paint.

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photo by Adrian van Leen at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/ppfOPRa/lake+reflections4

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.
 

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