Posted in My Haiku, tagged autumn, bard on the hill, Dennis Allen Lange, fall, fire on ice, haiku, Overlapping, poems, poetry, seasons, Winter, wordpress blog on October 24, 2016| Leave a Comment »
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Two seasons
Autumn and Winter –
Fire on ice.
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photo by Marja Flick-Buijs at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meRdgn2/Winter+colors
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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 Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.
Posted in My Poems, tagged autumn, cling, Dennis Lange, fall, horn, leaves, meter, poems, poetry, rhyming, rhythm, sparrows, Spring, traditional, whisper, whistle, Wind Asks on November 10, 2014| 3 Comments »
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………………………..Wind Asks
The breath of the morning is testing the leaves;
It’s whipping through trees as it wanders and weaves.
It blows like a whistle; it blasts like a horn;
It whispers; it tickles; it moves branch and thorn.
The sparrows that perch in the trees as they dance
All wonder in whispers how likely the chance
That leaves, little leaves, have now learned so they know
Why wind with wild whistling does over them blow?
The answer’s a question the wind has in mind,
And blowing is how it the answer will find.
It’s wanting to know of the leaves: fall or spring?
And blowing will find if they fall or they cling.
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photo by Hanspeter Klasser at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/ojvEN4q/forest+in+autumn+4
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.
Posted in My Poems, Villanelle, tagged autumn, bard on the hill, brilliant galleries, Dennis Lange, fall, harvest moon, leaves liquid pour off trees, like fireworks burst the blades, poems, poetry, summer bloom is past, sun sleeps late, villanelle, winter rides northern breeze, works less like bees on October 25, 2014| Leave a Comment »
……………………….Fall
The leaves, now liquid, pour from off the trees.
The summer bloom is past, a pause, and then a blast
Since winter rides upon the northern breeze.
The sun sleeps late and works less like the bees.
Cool is the morning air; the deer no longer bare.
The leaves, now liquid, pour from off the trees.
From harvest moon, earth reaps rich royalties;
The workers ply the fields, and hurry out with yields,
Soon, winter rides upon the northern breeze.
The calmness and the beauty bring an ease
To troubled souls who rest, and let their eyes be blest.
The leaves, now liquid, pour from off the trees.
We long for fall to be a photo – freeze;
Remain in this grand pose; it won’t, and each one knows
That winter rides upon the northern breeze.
The earth has opened brilliant galleries –
Like fireworks burst the blades! – and then the color fades.
The leaves, then liquid, pour from off the trees.
Soon winter rides upon the northern breeze.
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photo by Agnes Scholiers at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nJYyWma/Fall
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.
Posted in My Poems, Religious, tagged autumn, bard on the hill, blown to and fro, brittle little, carpe diem, Dennis Lange, fall, falling leaves, here and there, poems, poetry, purposeless lives, The Brittle Little Leaves on November 17, 2013| 8 Comments »
The Brittle Little Leaves
When Fall has passed its color peak,
The painted leaves take flight,
Blown here by warm winds from the south;
Blown there by north wind’s bite.
They fill the air like butterflies;
They float, freed from the tree.
And as they race, borne by the wind,
They’re blind to frailty.
One farther than the others sails;
One higher than the rest.
One grabs a ride on passing car;
One boasts as palace guest.
But though we marvel at their hues,
Most end in gutters, streets,
Like man who wastes his life in drink
And final end there meets.
Their days, when fetter free in Fall,
Are few, though each achieves
A splash of fame till end does claim
Those brittle little leaves.
Awed mankind watches Fall fly by
As it’s blown too by winds –
The mores of the masses’ moods,
The fads and passing trends.
Men fly in hurried little bursts;
They’re blown by moment’s whim;
They marvel as their colors flash –
It’s all carpe diem.
Each, in his fall, casts off constraints
And for the moment lives,
Not seeing that for fancy flights
It is his all he gives.
But foliage that’s evergreen,
Though staid and fixed, receives
Long life to spend, not bitter end
Of brittle little leaves.
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photo by Yannick Bisson at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mERacEq/Fallen+Leaves+1
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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.
Posted in My Haiku, tagged autumn, bard on the hill, change of leaves, cold weather, color, death, decisions, Dennis Lange, fall, grave, Hades, Haikus, poems, poetry, Winter on August 30, 2013| 2 Comments »
The Devourer Of The Green
Leaves’ colors
Changed by approach of
Winter’s teeth.
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Death And The Grave
No escape:
The gates of Hades
Bar death’s door.
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Decisions
Oft we gaze
Toward other worlds –
Shall we go?
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Devourer – photo by Michael and Christa Richert at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mfjHlUM/castle%27s+gate+in+autumn
Death – photo by Colin Brough at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mDmWCyW/Imprisoned
Decisions – photo by Sander Klaver at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mriaLPY/Padang+beach
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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 Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.
The Bard on the Hill 