20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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Autumn

Autumn’s fingers poke into
blue skies, coloring trees
crimson, orange, yellow and gold,
dusting them with wealth,
expectation of change this time of year.
Frost soon,
gregarious announcer of winter
hunches with gray shoulders as
if it were a cat stretching. An odd
justice creeps over the land,
killing summer, erasing fall, and
lighting the landscape with white
moments.
No
October treasure remains.
Pilfered, we trudge on toward December
quietly, steadily, with
ragged
slicing
teeth cutting into growth
under the snows.
Violence erupts, blizzard
winds whip with
extraordrinary power,
yammering temperatures to
zero.


13 Comments

our old truck

‘conversation with you
was like a drug
it wasn’t your face
so much as it was your words’
Lucinda Williams

the farm 019

with light in my shadows
and cuts soft through my circles
you keep me from falling once again
but your words always did that for me

like that very first time
sitting in my old pick up truck
listening to Lucinda’s twang tell us
why we didn’t want that night to end

only you could convince
this shy boy to sing harmony
when it was your perfect voice
all i ever really wanted to hear

and my muraled furniture met
your folk art painted window panes
we got poor when greed burned the economy
chasing dreams i got crushed in its crossfire

‘We are not selling that truck!’
oh darlin’ you didn’t have to shout
everything i could ever hope to know about you
i would have heard your devotion in a whisper

and now our old truck
is getting some love in return
we shared these past ten years
and when she comes back
all painted blue and purrin’
wait for me again to turn the corner
from the side window like you did

and darlin’,
snuggle up against me
on that old bench seat
let’s listen to our song windows down
summer and hope blowing through our hair

talk to me like poetry
its essence of our love in your glance
and every word knows when to be
we can talk again ’til dawn
yeah, we can just drive all night long


3 Comments

s.a.d.ness

crocus abd bees 2012 001

Sunless skies, endless
grey clouded over grey crusted
snow, creating havoc for crocus shoots
struggling to make their stand.

Winter, a slow
death by its thousand windy cuts
and imperceptable emotional fade, now
so few words shared between them.

All purple and
orange in full bloom swathed across
front yard lawns stirring expectations, and
memories of their languid summer days.

Teal sky
days that start warm ending warmer,
their uninterrupted steady sun and their
sleeveless shirts and moist sweaty skin.

Sun, her kiss
once assured his unsteady heart. So many
purple and orange reasons to be hopeful but
March, always the cruel reminder.

written March 2013
revised FOR April 2013 :- /


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Looking for the summer.

PFP20L

Peonies, a special favourite. I don’t grow them in my own garden; these are from the Dorothy Harvie Botanical Gardens in Calgary.
Photographed by Sheryl @ Flowery Prose on a much warmer, brighter, and less wintery day.


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Yesterday in Melbourne Australia

100.4F yesterday hot sun in Australia

Parches throat and toasts the fauna

Restless nights sleep

Throw off the doona

~~~~~

Crispens grass and crackles till dry

Sun in the sky blistering high

Dance bare footed across the sand

Lie on the towels to catch suntan

~~~~~

No cool air to dissipate heat

Hot gates to open, hot iron seats

Birds are silent in heat withdrawn

Heat makes you tired sleepy..yawn

~~~~~

Sun rays beam down washing gets dried

Towels all crunchy almost fried

Trees not moving no wind to stir

But this is the country I love ….AUSTRALIA

 

 


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December – Christmas in Australia

December is a coming it’s just around the bend

For some it will be snow flakes for us it’s heat and sun

We have turkey, chicken & our ham

We have our prawns or our seafood

We have our pudding with the custard

Or fresh in season berries which are so so deliciously good

Sometimes it will be BBQ

With the meats under cover they cook

Sometimes they’re thrown in oven

When doors are opened for one more look

Yes Christmas in Australia can be 104 degrees

We swelter with air con pumped up high

Our land is girthed by seas

And if it does get hotter we can but simply sigh

There won’t be snow flakes falling

Or bodies rugged up tight

There won’t be a hot toddy

Or a cold and chilly night

We share our love under heat and sun

And moan about the weather

How silly to serve hot meats we say

But at least we’re all together

There won’t be snow or chilly winds

But sun to blaze upon us

We tuck into our Christmas fare

With laughs, with love & stress

Is Christmas any different though?

We celebrate the same

We just have different temperatures

Of which we may complain

The Season of goodwill to man

Of that we have been told

To share our love & giving

With the young & with the old

So enjoy the day for what it is

Wherever you may be

The day of being with your friends

And your treasured family

For the day is shared all ov’ the world

Whether heat or snow or cold

A day of sharing, love & laughs

A day to remember as we grow old

 

 


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Cycles

Circles of cycles
move me farther from birth,
closer to death.
I do not acknowledge the latter.
Seasons teach me:
Infant blossoms in spring,
full bloom of youth, the summer,
a winding-down in fall, raking up excesses, lowered skies,
then frozen winter.
I know my season,
just as the clock ticks inexorably.


5 Comments

Summer (from ramblingsfromamum)

My body lies upon the sand and the warmth radiates and envelopes my every pore

I inwardly smile at how I feel, my senses are tingling and alive as I listen to the sounds of the waves tumbling

I have waited all year to feel this way

To be by the ocean to hear its sounds, to smell it

Summer

My hands dig into the soft and gritty like crystals and slowly I let each grain pass through my fingers

My eyes closed my breath draws in to absorb the perfume of the water, the smell of the warmest season

My eyes blink open and I stare to the sky above to watch the clouds dance in the wind that carries them

I watch as birds fly overhead and cry out making themselves known

Summer

So perfect the day the quietness, the stillness around me with only the waves and the sounds of feathered creatures

My mind escapes into the paradise, my thoughts tumble, like the waves they ebb and flow

How perfect, how serene at happiness complete

The seasons that make a difference to my feelings my emotions

Summer

I have waited for the warmth to feel the sand, to hear the ocean, to gaze into the water

I have passed through the cold and wintry months, the time of Spring and Autumn, with summer I am alive

This is my place, this is where I belong

I am content at peace

Summer

Why does this have such a hold on me?

Why am I happiest here?

I cannot say, is it because I am a water sign?

Possibly

Summer

Some places make us feel alive more than others

Being near the water is mine

I have tranquility listening to the waves or stepping amongst the rock pools to watch the life below

I simply belong

Summer

Do you have a place where you belong?

Where your senses come alive

Where the sounds of all around you without an orchestra

Fulfills you and takes you to a place you may only have in your dreams…

Summer


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Seasons

I’m editing this to dedicate it especially to Caroline Rhein.  Caroline is the former sister in law of my brother Steve’s wife Jean.  She was just critically injured in a motorcycle accident, in which her companion was killed, and is recovering in the hospital.  It’s my understanding that she still doesn’t know about her companion’s death.  They had been out celebrating her birthday.  I met her 10 years ago, in April of 2002, when I was visiting Steve and Jean in Colorado.  We seemed to really get on well, and I never forgot that time visiting with her and the connection we made, although we did not stay in touch through the years since.  But she’s been through more than many people could endure, including the tragic loss of a son 3 years ago.  You can read about that in my brother’s blog here.  Praying for a speedy recovery for Caroline, and for healing in her heart for the many trials she’s endured and is still enduring.

May there be no violent storm raging deep within your soul

But may there be a summer breeze that blows, and does console

May you know the warmth of being loved, and loving in return

And if your love should leave you, may your light inside still burn

May you never become bitter, with cold and hardened heart

May you always know that every day brings with it a new start

When you can lay aside all the troubles you have known

And recall only the memory of kindness life has shown

This is my prayer for you, upon this August day

When fall is now approaching, with the leaves that fall away

May they carry with them all the things that take away your smile

So to lighten up your journey as you walk another mile

~~~

The journey is amazing, with such beauty to behold

But along the way, I know the winds that blow can be quite cold

I pray the flame of God’s great love will always keep you warm

And you will know to look to Him to keep you from all harm

Remember through the winter that the snow will one day melt

I pray that melting with it will be all the hurts you’ve felt

And when the spring returns again, with new life all around

May it bring you peace from deep within, and blessings that abound.


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Maggies Blues Sonnet Challenge

http://anexerciseindiscipline.wordpress.com/2012/08/27/how-about-another-challenge-2/

Hi – missed Maggie’s challenge yesterday and am late posting today. Forgot the heroic couplet and then had to add it back, needs work, but here it is.

We thought we’d got our summer here at last,

We thought we’d got our summer here at last,

We thought we’d got our summer, rain was past.

 

We waited for the birds to start to sing,

We waited for the butterflies to wing.

But Winter stretched out longer into spring.

 

Then August came and children left the schools

The holidays began, the heat was cruel,

But summer’s sun with winter had to duel.

 

At first those breezes on our skin felt sweet,

a welcome change from all the scorching heat,

but swiftly, winter had our summer beat.

 

The heat has gone, the days are getting cool.

September looms, that’s autumn, that’s the rule.

The summer’s gone and we are Nature’s fool.

 

We’re not in charge of summer or of rain

For Mother Nature has the bigger brain.

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