The weather is confused right now.
Gray skies are followed by white lies
That melt away into the pools,
And trees look like they’ve begun
To shoot their buds and grow.
But freezing weather makes every step
Across the yard treacherous,
And winds howl with such gusto
Makes one think it’ll never be Spring again!
Some days the sun shines
And as I wait for water bucket to fill
I draw moonscapes with my breath in the air.
Other days I take my hat
And stuff it into my pocket
And slip and slide as I make my way
Up the hill for a view
That may tell me, give me some hope,
Of a Spring that is just around the corner.
Tag: hill
Valley Knight (day 3086)
Morning breath of Saturday glory
Blinding in its sight
Focused on a path of tomorrow
For today is inescaped.
And far above on Midnight’s hill
Rode a tall and lanky Knight
Who dreamt of far off Damsels
Who wore bright flowers of ancient pattern.
Down they swooped and lush they bled
For their heart was bound thy sleeve,
And bottled in a pit of agony
Lay the tremors that fought against
Each and every missing link
Of ancient pattern’s bloom.
But there it grew, there it lifted
Above horizon and into morn’,
There the sight of our dear Knight
Rode amidst Valley full.
Hill (day 2951)
And so I came to the hill
Wrapped in all things
Left here to dry, to weep and cry
To spell out long letters
To those last glimpses of my truth
Who have left the last marks
Ravaging the little beasts
Smoking atop the hill so crested.
And then it began to drip down
Along the side of my being
Gooey globs of scent infused
Suffering that made me stop,
Gaze uncontrollably
At the giant drops of passion,
And remember how far
I still have to go
For I think I have a hill to climb.
Three (day 1816)
Human is at last on my mind
Nine fifteen nine fifty three
Easy my modal
On stride in a day’s lemonade
If it goes to three
Then land on my hill
Let ours be and then be
Motion set inside of me
Advantage atmosphere
Advantage tip of my tongue
Burning without gasoline
Summer night is my number three
Downhill (day 1260)
Sweating with a heavy breath
From the hill I had just climbed,
I circled the fourtyfive spouted fountain
Spitting mist like Niagara Falls
On my bicycle gliding silently
To observe, round and round as I went,
I was watched by more than just sweet little birds.
For, at every post there was a valiant sentinel
Eying me as I passed,
Who saluted on the hour every hour
To lords I had never met,
Captains of yesterday
Whose presence was lingering
In the shiny shackles about their vests.
And in my ignorance I sped away,
For my whole route,
From whence I had just come,
Was downhill the whole way!
Little Spoon (day 1118)
I am the little spoon
That lives in the hill,
Scalloping hoodwinks
With masterful might.
An age old tradition
My father’s father told,
Forgiveness unheard to
Plant out my soul,
For I am the little spoon!
Happy lives fold.
Yet here I am
Amongst leftover pine,
A scraggly drain
In a dirty edged pond,
Mystery splashes
To my father’s better half,
Which I cannot explain anymore.
Which I ply with my little spoon.
Tall and Proud (day 917)
And into the hills I plunge my sword;
A ghastly and devilish sharpened thing
To ward off the demons of ghoulish sorts
That steal the plains of peaceful dusk
And mock the winds like cackling hens
Where do you want my heroes badge?
Shall it grace my green lapel upon
My suit of honor, ragged and dry?
I came here with a confident grin,
Now leaving I shall gaily step
For with my savagery, my valor, I’ve done
What no man here had done before;
Rid these lands from evil plague
That held your heads towards the sky
In search of reasons, and a warning sign
Though, while my road may long become
Legends of I grow tall and proud
A hero here, a myth there,
A legend told by fire lit, aye
Maturing ears of eager years
So if you come against the rush,
Some words of our heroes tests.
Will you encourage the legend on?
Trace it’s depths to the devils grasp,
Then onward ho! Triumph.
No Ladder (day 837)
I stopped at my cliff to eye the fields
A walkers breath was all I could feel
Sent out along with my great view
Sitting alone in torment upon this hill
Not ready to head down to say I’m sorry
Misunderstanding every call shouted aloud
Reaching out hands to soften my fall
And for this I’m sorry, my stars of night’s sky
I miss you more stepping further, higher
A steady breath to hold your thought
Where I cover you from all this hurt
Oh gentle woman, oh lily of my ruin
Not ready to head down to say I’m sorry
Presence needs no ladder to follow me here
Your heart is in me, in every way near
And for this I’m sorry, my stars of night’s sky
I am here now in the height of love
I’m begging my dear for long nights near
Lit up clear with your bright eyes
Your thoughts so soft to my poor heart
I’m on my way to say I’m sorry
It wasn’t long amongst quiet things
To show me how I’ve done you wrong
And for this I’m sorry, my stars of night’s sky
Ol’ Ginter’s Ruins (day 737)
There’s a lady I walk by-the-by
She drags her feet like
With hair out wide
She’s got an old black lab
That huffs and puffs
Up ol’ Ginter’s Hill
She ain’t much of a hill
But the ruins at the top
Make a nice place to stop
For a break and a view
Let my mind sit and stew
Upon the brick walls that remain
In front of ol’ Ginter’s ruins
Lays a meadow and a copse
Brooding in green
With a gurgling stream
Which I roam up and down
Day in and day out
Some days I go up
Above ol’ Ginter’s ruins
There’s a well up there
At the end of the trail
Along the gurgling stream
Where I listen to the wild
There are two paths
From ol’ Ginter’s hill
To the house where I stay
One weaves through the woods
The other: a wide rocky path
I always go through the woods
Atop This Hill (day 357)
I’m not alone on this hill
Of which I sit atop here today
No, I’m joined by a few
Estranged souls come to view
One of which that has hair
The fiery red of the devil
Another with hair of an angel
A third who has hair
So dark that it shines
Against the pale blue
Above here today
That man over there
With wild hair and a beard
Perhaps intends to imitate
Orwell in his form!
Ah what a day
What a glorious day
Alive here in London
And these trees
I can hear in the distance
Children playing and laughing
As if school weren’t still in session
Perhaps it’s the day
Where all go out to play
Giving teachers a moment to relax
…side note: I should have brought corn nuts with me up here…