poems

Here is a poem I wrote about two years ago. I have never been a poet, that is one thing I've never really done before. But, I still like this.




Rays of sunlight penetrated holes in the vast cloud cover.
The beams that escaped the clouds shone like pillars
from heaven descending on earth.
The sun’s long fingers groped down, trying to envelope
everything in its dense beautiful light.
June’s warm air swirled around leaves on the trees,
begging them to come loose so they could dance.
The deep green leaves flittered, staying on their branch,
letting the wind play with them. They were shy,
still clinging to their mother’s hand.
The tender green grass swayed with the wind in its dance.
The wind found someone to dance with
and swung them around with gusto.
The cotton swung around and around, floating languorously
in a tango. The wind whistled with enthusiasm
over houses, now swiftly acing as the vigor overflowed.
The cotton twirled and swung, laughing lightly.
Brooks and streams surged forth, racing faster and faster
as the wind danced. The water giggled over rocks.
A stick joined in the ballet with the water,
trailing behind the energetic stream.
The stick was a little gauche, but the stream didn’t mind.
The water’s enthusiasm spilled forth, encouraging the stick,
directing it as it glided around boulders and logs.
Wind twisted and turned, swooshing around
winter’s long dead leaves that strew the beaten path.
Were red, brown, and yellow leaves too arid for a brisk salsa?
Wind didn’t care to consider it.
The old-beautifully wonderful leaves wavered and swayed
to the wind’s cadence-a million beats per minute.
The leaves nodded their thanks to the sprightly wind.
The languidly lively dance made the wind whistle its applause.