Hi! Welcome to my poetry page; consisting of poetry by members of the Patchwork mailing list and myself.

If your poem is listed here and you for some reason don't want it to be, please e-mail me and I'll take it off immediately.

Where there is more than one poem by the same poet, I have given the poet a separate heading. Poets with one poem I have placed under "Other Poets".

Coming soon: a page with poems by some of my favourite, famous poets.

Feel the winter

Taste the wind
Run silently through amber fields
Dream the day
Smell the joy
Hear the blue
Gently cradling white pillows
Hold the thorn
Cut the tension
Laugh with Harmony
With a snowflake falling slowly
Ever downward on invisible currents
Coolly landing on a lash
Vanishing in a blink of an eye.

Brian McCarty

*******************************

Sunshine
By: Maria Victoria Lofgren

 Sunshine
 Shine down on me
 Dazzle my eyes
 Give me light to see
 
 Dry up any tears
 Impart vitality
 Warm up my heart
 And fill me with energy
 
 Make all seem new
 And wonderful again
 Erase the past
 As if it had never been
 
 Give the world
 A sparkling glow
 Dance and reflect
 On the river I watch flow
 
 Let me find new meaning
 And forget the dark
 May I glory in the flowers
 And sing with the lark
 
 Sunshine
 Shine ever bright
 So I'll still feel warm
 When comes the night

(c) Maria Original Creations, Ltd. 1997 


*******************************

Sunflowers

Sunflowers in the fog
        Of a bright morning
                Still watch the sun
                        Raise its crown above the hills.

Up...
        Up...
                Up...
                        The sun, like the flowers, is in bloom.

Down...
        Down...
                Down...
                        The sun, like the flowers, is gone too soon.

                        (c) Kristi L. Waterworth, 4/16/97

*******************************

SPRING                         
By : The Night Hawk
                                                                 
Awakened by her warm sweet touch
the cool breeze blows across my chest
I hear the faint sound of song birds
Hurriedly I dress and make coffee 
then step outside to partake in the Festivities

Walking out into the garden
Bare feet in cool moist earth
flashes of blue jay, and cardinal
lady spring has arrived in all her grandeur
and all Gods creatures bow and greet her

warm golden showers of light
touching my soul giving back
what the winter had taken away
as the depression lifts 
life's sweet breath once again returns

rejoicing I fall to my knees
giving thanks for yet another chance 
to live life new again, fresh and clean
as life bursts forth all around me
for a moment I too am young again  

Copyright © 1997 by The Night Hawk, All rights reserved

*******************************

The Sea

Stroke by
     stroke my
          body remembers that life and cries for
                the lost parts of itself--
fins, gills
      opening like flowers into
        the flesh-- my legs
                want to lock and become
one muscle, I swear I know
      just what the blue-gray scales
        shingling
                  the rest of me would
feel like!
      paradise!  Sprawled
        in that motherlap,
                in that dreamhouse
of salt and exercise,
      what a spillage
        of nostalgia pleads
                from the very bones!  how
they long to give up the long trek
        inland, the brittle 
                beauty of understanding,
                        and dive,
and simply
        become one flaming body
        of blind feeling
                sleeking along
in the luminous roughage of the sea's body,
        vanished
                        
Mary Oliver

*******************************

The rose

the pink rose was just
perfect in it's minute detail
of dark pink pointed but
surrounded my slener green
brackets

as the day began it opened
slowly to the warmth of the
sun and the gentleness of the
breeze that came over it's 
face 

slowly it opened swelling
slowly, curling the petals
back just a little at a time
as the day progressed 

by evening it was at it's
prime: never too young 
or too old

then by the next day the rose
was looking a little tired and
fragile and by evening the petals
were falling, falling and it was
hard to believe looking at the mess
on the ground that this was once
a beautiful bud in the beginning
of it's life

no one noticed now or remembered
that it was perfect once and it would
be again in less than one year - 
now it was time to end
and then begin
again

kathy m wedeking

*******************************

Nature and I

In the distance thunder
rolls.  Reverberating off 
my windows it tells of the
impending rains to come.
The leaves visible through
my window are turned upwards
waiting for the coming nourisment.
The bird that nests above my door
flies hurriedly to her nest to settle
in before the rain comes.  
The squirrels skitter through the
treetops, walnuts in their mouths,
rushing to avoid the coming
downpour.  I do nothing to prepare.
I just watch and wait.  Nature is ready 
now.  The leaves are thirsty, the birds are 
nesting, and all the gray squirrels
are in their homes.  The first drops
begin to fall.  Softly, one by one at first...
then harder and faster.  The rains
rhythm soothes and relaxes me.
As I drift to sleep I think that we are 
all prepared nature and I...no worries.

Copyright 1997 Patricia Ann Proffitt

*******************************

Moonlight in Motion

By: Maria Victoria Lofgren

Moonlight in motion
Free-flowing emotion
Wings of irredesant blue
Delicate beauty- that is you

A being composed of dream material
Hovering near so I can feel
The whisper of you passing by.
The sight of you delights the eye.

You're moonlight- shining and flying free
Moonlight which approaches and touches me.
Made of dreams, you're here...then gone
I catch one glimpse...then you flit on.

You are emotion flying around,
Expressing yourself wherever you're found.
Fluttering quickly...then pausing to rest
Wandering far on your secret quest

An explorer with wings going everywhere
Carefree and happy...uncumbered by care
Your personality- timid and shy
God's work of art- a butterfly

(c) Maria Original Creations, Ltd. 1997

*******************************

The JopoTree
____________

The JopoTree is a rare and
beautiful thing.  A  hybrid
"plant" bred of love and affection.  It
grows wild and strong feeding
upon friendship, love, and adoration.

Two species joined as one that
grow better together than they 
ever did apart.  

There's only one JopoTree yet,
it grows in the heart of two different
"places."

One hybrid "tree" created by the 
Master's hand I'm sure.  Come 
from two different "species" now 
forming one strong and sure "tree."

With the right amount of care the 
JopoTree will live a lifetime.

Copyright 1997

*******************************

Blue Heron

As big as my eyes
The blue heron’s wings
Settle into a water-nest.
His touch tickles barnacles
Clear to the bottom 
Of the reef.
A thin green light
Points
Its finger toward
The water’s lips and
Kisses the midnight shore 
To sleep.

Phyllis Thomas Gibson
(c) 1997

*******************************

Heavy fog and  mist
slumbering garden
flash of gold wing

Vernis Persoon

*******************************

Ohoopee Flood

Haiku sequence

striding through
the Ohoopee flood plain
a blue heron

going out
the boat's wake
going in
 
wade out
wade further out-
clear water

Neca Stoller

*******************************

"Fluting Glaze"

fluting glaze
kayak by planked over watery maze
landslide deals cards
of mud
i slide with them
washouts together
and also by myself
a dud

Captain Cal

*******************************

Fulfillment
 
Purple violets in the spring
what a joy to me you bring
Yellow daffodils so bright
my soul is filled with pure delight
Apricot tree so full of bloom
indeed you do dispel my gloom
Forsythia of gracefull spread
to make a halo for my head
Hyacinth with essence sweet
my eyes behold so rich a treat
Green of grass and bud of tree
what more need I to feel set free.
 
Vernis Persoon (c)  4-6-97

*******************************

Autumn

Leaves...
Twisting, Spiraling,
Swirling down to me...
Brush my cheek with nature.
Golden, green, crimson
Blending in a harmony
Of beautiful life
And aging frailty.
Wind...
Whipping and carressing
My hair everywhere.
This breeze makes me feel
That I can exist forever
Eddies and currents of crisp
Cooling air.
Always there
Smiles...
Tears...
They both some to my eyes
In joy,
As I survey the way
The world
Makes ready for cold death.
For I know it is not death that comes,
But health, 
Love,
And Peace.

How I Love Autumn

Sara Luchian  
(c)  March 15, 1997

*******************************

A Glimmer

Kneading the creek
around the red clay bank,
a thick willow; 
the shallow bottom
a mirror of sunlit ripples.
Serenity settles.
High thoughts, until
from beyond the senses
a glimmer......
almost within my reach
when the sandbank shifts.

Neca Stoller

*******************************

Spring Sight

young bird
with fragile wings
practices its flight craft
as I watch- perched on deck chair- the
fledgling.

Laura Wilson June 1997

*******************************


    OLD OAK TREE PRAYER

I have lived for hundreds of years, seen all there is to see;
1776, Civil war, the battle of Tripoli.

Avowals carved in my bark, love, affection, indignity;
attest to man's folly. . . . and absurdity.

I have felt the many colds of winter's fiercest nights,
veins clogged from nature's frozen might.

Bent by the winds of time I am today,
old and dreary they all say.

I am old and oh so tired.

Bring to me soft comforting breezes, to filter through my
limbs and caress my scaly bark.

Bring to me the early morning sun, to enfold and warm my
shimmering leaves.

Bring to me warm and gentle showers, to sooth my gnarled
and twisted roots.

Bring to me a glimmer of hope while remembering years past.

These things I ask.

I am old and oh so tired.

(c) Charles Ethelred
     August 13, 1994

*******************************

RISING EARLY
  
  I rose early today to watch the morning
  take it's first deep breath.
  Not when dawn just begins to
  feather the long back of the horizon,
  but later when the langorous fingers
  of the sun slowly reach across the 
  rumpled sheets of land
  to awaken its lover with a knowing touch.
  She startles and then comes the quick
  deep breath of consciousness - a gasp
  of recognition that a new day is at hand.
  It's that gasp I wait for.
  It has to do with the light - the way
  it suddenly streaks into the bay
  through the pines and first strokes
  the tops of the cattails, the heron's neck,
  the rough skin of the rocks.
  This is the moment when morning
  awakens and takes its first deep breath.
  It has to do with the light.
  
  C & C Welcome
  
  Jeanne Emrich

*******************************

 METAMORPHOSIS 

 Snapping fibers of cocoon
 Blinding brilliance of high noon
 Wings unfolding, spreading, dry
 Coast is clear, my darling--FLY!! 

 Gini Schmitz

*******************************

 BLOWING WINDS

 See the winds race 'cross the fields,
 going farther and farther away.
 Sometime whispering, sometime clamorous,
 their many voices say.
 O' follow me, O' follow me, to nevers land,
 where blowing winds stay.

 (c) Bill Etheridge 08/16/94 (rev 06/20/97)
 aka Charles Ethelred    

*******************************   

Beautiful Rose

She stands at the garden wall and smells 
The sweetness of the pink rose. A sweetness
Only matched by her beauty. A color only 
Matched by the blush of her cheeks. The warm
Summer wind gently blows her light blond hair.
It appears to be flowing with the petals of 
The rose. I stand mesmerized as woman and 
Flower are one. Their beauty interchangeable.
I catch the scent riding the breeze. My nostrils
Flare. Is it her or the rose that I smell? She 
Plucks the petals one by one. I see her lips as
Succulent as the nectar saying, "He loves me,
He loves me not." I am caught up in this game.
Feeling as if my love hinges on the outcome of
That last plucked petal. "He loves me," the 
Petal falls lightly to the dew filled, plush
Green grass. I breath a sigh of relief for my
Beautiful rose. Lucky that it lives in my garden.

Travis Tapley
June 6, 1997

*******************************   

Rain

The rain threads
through the green plaid
of the forest canopy
onto a downed oak;
splashing off an
orange umbrella
of a mushroom
sprouting there;
dripping down
between bent grasses
into the dark sand.
Arriving, just now, 
on earth.

Neca Stoller

*******************************   

Elemental Poetry

There's poetry in autumn rain
that spatters on the windowpane
that presses free from pregnant clouds
and all the world in mist enshrouds

There's poetry in winter air
that chills through thermal underwear
that swirls snowflakes in sprightly dance
and echoes bells as reindeer prance

There's poetry in springtime earth
that lends itself to life's rebirth
that forms the solid ground below
and nurtures seedlings as they grow

There's poetry in summer fire
that clads the flesh in bronze attire
that heats the globe with warming rays
and sets empassioned hearts ablaze

There's poetry in memory
of what once was and what might be
of dreams and wishes foul and fair
there's poetry--POETRY!--everywhere.

Jopo Ryk
June 28, 1997

******************************* 

Strands of Twilight

I love the twilight hour best
When print is hard to see
And willing shadows reach and caress
A tired, weary me.

When sunlight's glow has faded
>From my strawberry golden hair
Any warmth too strong has abated
Leaving coll breezes to linger there.

Where sunshine's fingers touched
Breezes tousel, tease, and play
My hair's warm weight seems lifted
 -A relaxing end to a long day.

By: Maria Victoria Lofgren

*******************************

Another Day

The sun settles
        gently
                on the horizon
Relationships
        that bloomed within the
                first
                        streaks of morning light
                                are swept away in the currents
                                        of the Milky Way
Darkness
        singles out its victims
                in the glow of a lunar
                        landscape
                                smiling
In anticipation
        of the next dream
                lingering in the melodies
                        of a sad song
But it does
        come
                the sun
                        again
As moisture
        from our tears
                glistens on the lip
                        of another day

(c) 1997 James Oliver Smith, Jr

*******************************

Moon Poem

A ragged cloud
writes in long-hand
upon the moon

Hanging in a tree -
the poem

Jeanne Emrich
*******************************


Robins

Against the sky
Egg-shell-blue-eggs
crack and expose
wet downy shapes
with disoriented heads.

The larger
louder, stronger
pushes first,
stands taller and
feathers faster.

All splay...

The lingering runt
finally beats elusive,
beguilding flight.

The only sign of life
from the nest
now, is the wiggle
of the hot summer heat
amid slipstreams

and

the shadows
which frown and smile
upon tendrils of
an empty Robin's nest.

Phyllis Thomas Gibson
(c) 1997
*******************************


Autumn

Autumn comes as a surprise.
It seemed very far away-
   so much time to get things done.
None of us are quite prepared,
   not even sure its really here.
This biding place we now reside.

Neca Stoller

*******************************

When Rain Gets in the Way

When rain gets in the way
those perfect days have no chance
their sugar coatings
dissolve and trickle
to the street

Shadows no longer 
revolve or dance
while fickle winds
make misery complete

Ask the somber clouds
why they
as masks of grey
align to mock
a skyward shroud
When rain gets in the way.

[Copyright 1998; Jim Sullivan 02/06/98]
*******************************


  Clouds

  Before the power lines
  the clouds
  themselves
  tattooed  spring skies
  with milky foam.
 
  In endless 
  Explanation Points
  The Great Smoky Mountains
  gathered and joined their parade.
  
  Morning arose earlier.
  Daylight was sweeter.
  The nights
     Oh, the nights
  arrived warmer though shorter.

  Beneath those 
  lingering layers of dusk
  sometimes
  stars melted
  into neighboring buttermilk skies.

  Today
  above molten skylines
  between towering skyscrapers
  amid rainy cloistered evenings
  those same gathering clouds
  are merely misty smoke screens.

  Is it morning yet?

 Phyllis Thomas Gibson
(c) 1998
*******************************

El Nino

Baffled
the trembling front
crosses sticky red earth
quickly pushing spring
beyond white painted fences

dipping slender 
icy fingers of sleet
into frozen 
minced barrels 
of mud

echoing and composing 
whimpering wails 
into brilliantly brimmed 
wind songs

joining with and matching
the sighs 
of our most indulgent  
incorrigible child.

Phyllis Thomas Gibson
(c) 1998
*******************************



Fanciful Fireflies

They might spend 
winter after winter
in brilliant crystal caves
chipping facets for flint,
but no one really knows.

They might hide 
beneath foxgloves
priming little 
quick-silver lanterns.

Some of us
sit on tree stumps
and hold them in
memory banks and
tuck them in heart folds.

Some of us
beat fairy-drums
and sing
song’s of six pence. 

Some of us
design flower strewn
hand made paper and
map their game’s
of hide and seek.

Never late, 
just past eight o’clock-
they stir evening’s curtain
and poke fun at
daylight saving’s time.

Maybe they are
candle holder’s
for the little people.

Maybe they are archer’s
of spring fever.

Or, maybe they are
Irish forest angels
letting their light’s shine
   and shine
        and shine-
well, maybe.

Phyllis Thomas Gibson
(c) 1998
*******************************

When I am full of silence

  When I am full of silence
  and the world becomes too cruel
  I withdraw from all society
  and call myself a fool
  I thrash and castigate myself
  and close my eyes to weep
  'til the world's weight overcomes me
  and I'm carried off to sleep.
  In sleep I dream of finer things
  of velvet sheets and golden rings
  of children laughing, dogs at play--
  such visions take my cares away.
  And when I wake I rub my eyes
  and see the world anew
  Peace raises me to greet the morn
  and salute the sky so blue.

  Jopo Ryk
*******************************

c a r r i e d   a w a y

rain storm countryside
earlier the day promised
sunshine - and it did

	long before conception
	my mother knew another -
	different family

		picking strawberries
		hot, humid day on the vines
		evening came with rain

			juicy fruit sold for cash
			blessings twice rained from above
			laborers recline

    money on mom's lap
  open the door to ascend
fruits washed down the drain
         forever
	 *******

(c) 1997 Haile Nkrumah Gault
*******************************


RAINY NIGHT IN MARCH


The sky  c r i e s .

Dark, slick streets  s c r e a m  with action.

Winter is releasing its  c h o k e h o l d  on me

As a windy rain sweeps through the city.
~	~	~	~	~	~	~	~
What a perfect night to sleep.

But I choose to take it all in;

To view from my front porch

My neighbors running for shelter.
~	~	~	~	~	~	~	~
It's quite  c h i l l y  and slightly  f o g g y ;

I can see my  b r e a t h .

Yet the night is  p a s s i o n a t e .

I am  s e d u c e d  by its powerful calm.
~	~	~	~	~	~	~	~
The past few months have been  t u r b u l e n t  sailing.

Warmer days surely lie ahead.

This rainy night represents  t r a n s i t i o n .

The upcoming bridge that I must negotiate harbors NO promises.

Nevertheless, I must  m a r c h  across it to conquer the opposition.

As I have braved the cold of the dark,

I will press ahead to meet my foe.
~	~	~	~	~	~	~	~	~
Running for shelter works for a while,

But there comes a time when I must stand out in the pouring rain

And look  m y s e l f  straight into the eye.

And if in the  c o n f r o n t a t i o n

I do not obtain what I  t r u l y  desire,

I will only have myself to blame.


(c) 1996 Haile Nkrumah Gault
*******************************

Late Winter's Eventide


    Clear blue sky
Millions of suns ablaze
Moon tucked away yonder
   Fresh cool Spirit
Frosting lungs to crisp
The silence of the moon
     and Jupiter
O for a snapshot of Thee
 The window to forever
 Another solar system
    Another galaxy
  Another milky way
Unseen by human eyes
      Heaven.

 	(c) 1998 
	Haile 
	Nkrumah 
	Gault
*******************************