Country
The opening eyelids of the morn appear,
The start of another day is now here.
The sun shines down on the country below,
As nature begins her glamorous show.
See the shadows on the rolling hills,
Gaze upon the meadows and the daffodils.
The clouds move across the blue sky,
As the birds leave their nests and begin to fly.
Animals are put to pasture for the long day,
One can also see the trees as they begin to sway.
The woods are filled with living things,
What beauty their romp and movement brings.
The blazing sun heats the earth and makes everything grow,
The grass, flowers, plants and trees begin to show.
The hay in the meadow casts a golden hue upon the sun,
The whole country is alive and vibrant as one views this great land.
The crickets start chirping their favorite song.
As everything in the forest keeps moving along.
The day is ending as the sun begins to fade,
The trees and hills are barely seen in the shade.
The Empress of Silence and the Queen of Sleep appear,
Awaiting tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.
|
The Mystic
Standing by the smoldering fire with outstretched arms,
the mysterious medicine man prays to his ancestral spirits to carry on
his peoples flight.
Seeking guidance from his world of gods and demons, he plays his music
with his drum and rattles as he chants over the dim light.
Gone are the buffalo!
American Indians call him shaman for he was a healer for their tribe.
This mystic Indian would cast spells on his enemies as he stood over the
sacred fire. Balms, potions, and tonics mixed with herbs were often used
to cast out evil spirits. The Mystic then threw the mixture into the mire.
Gone are the Plains Indians!
Dressed in his buffalo robe, beaded buckskins, and a head dress of bird
feathers, he looked like a Man of Mystery! His skin was painted with hues
of red, white and black. He often prayed through the night for the people
of his tribe. Now the Shaman is history.
Gone is the Mystic!
|
The Ghosts of the Sea
The ghosts of the sunken ships remember the fog,
Reminiscent of the danger of a wild, mad dog.
Hidden it the darkness it came into the night,
everyone aboard the sailing ship became affright.
They lost their way in that thick cloud as they fell the rhythm of the
waves,
They could hear the water as it crashed against the shore and the caves.
Before the sailor knew it they were in the sea among the rolling, foaming
crests,
The deep sea was calling them as the waves broke across their breasts.
The high seas had taken another ship as it lay battered among the rocks,
moving
slowly with tide,
Softly they could hear the whispering of the fog as it spoke to the ocean
wide.
The ghosts of the sea beckon as the ocean becomes a sheet of glass,
The fog has lifted and the ghosts for the deep invite the ships who would
dare pass.
|
