Poetry Obsessed

It feels so good to be writing poems again. Everywhere I look I'm inspired with phrases popping into my head from nowhere. I feel alive again in ways I haven't for too long. I've never been one to parade my poetry around. I always wrote it for me and was rather embarrassed to admit that poetry was my first love, and now I find myself posting my lines for the world to see - and I am perfectly okay with that. There is still a part of me that wonders if people will get bored if I post so much poetry, that they will wander away, but another part stands up and says, "Hey, it's my blog, and I can post poetry if I darn well want to!"

So here I am again with a poem inspired while up the canyon the other day. I mentioned in a previous blog that I watched a family of deer for about ten minutes. Well, it was no exaggeration, and they were the primary topic of this poem. I call it . . . .

A Place of Solace

I've found a new place of solace

in the whispering band of trees,

who put on a fashion show of autumn leaves

and fading summer green.

The music of the breeze sets tree trunk legs

to dance with a bow and sway,

then the trees put their heads together and whisper,

whisper their secrets,

and I am finally allowed to see.

A doe and her two fawns

tiptoe within sight to stand in stillness

and watch me, too frozen in awe to move.

Finally, unthreatened, Mother Doe moves closer

to drink from a stream at my feet.

Her back leg reaches up to scratch -

like a dog she hoofs at her cheek, then rests.

For ten long minutes I saw their secret,

saw the deer live among "my" trees

before they darted back to the hiding place

wherever the deer call home,

like fairies retreating to their ring,

and I sat alone again,

a little wiser,

in my new place of solace.

Quote of the Day: "Success is a finished book, a stack of pages each of which is filled with words. If you reach that point, you have won a victory over yourself no less impressive than sailing single-handed around the world." - Tom Clancy