Now the winter shivers

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Now the winter shivers
In this barren land.
Near and far the echoes
Without a welcome hand.

Now the winter clamors
As naysayers pave the way.
The vile commence each battle
What more is there to say.

Dimmer than the most atrocious
On the crowning of darkest night.
Sure-footed soldiers march into battle
Prepared for one more fight.

The world lies in anguish
No longer praying for relief.
Smack dab in the pit of sorrow
Buried in inescapable grief.

© 2019 Michelle Cook


The rhyme and meter of this poem, were inspired by the poetic works of Edna St. Vincent Millay, who wrote “Autumn Chant,” which can be found here.

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/kz-kz-dachau-konzentrationslager-2063339/

 

Stop and Listen

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Stop and listen
Hear the sound
New life teeming
All around

Look at the fields
The sky, the earth
All so lovely
Full of rebirth

Listen to the ocean
And the stoic geese
Notice the beauty
Find your inner peace

See the world
Through brand new eyes
What you observe
Might be a surprise

Stop for a moment
Catch your breath
Plenty to live for
Before life meets death

© 2019 Michelle Cook

A Peeping Poet

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It’s a crisp fall morning
As she carefully dips her toes
There’s a hidden alcove there
Where nobody goes

The water is calm
So very peaceful and serene
And she washes discreetly
Mindful she isn’t seen

A sudden splash and ripple
Quickly catch her attention
And she shields her breasts
In modest apprehension

But it’s only just a loon
Seeking out its prey
And her fear subsides
As the majestic creature flies away

Back to her bathing
She becomes lost in introspection
So she bends down slowly
To look at her reflection

She sees a stubby little nose
With wide blue eyes
And there’s a small pointy chin
Which she’d like to disguise

Her blurred image
Stares back for quite awhile
And something about it
Suddenly makes her smile

She lets out an embarrassed giggle
After realizing she’s been seen
She happens to notice a poet
Has come upon the scene

I’m so sorry I reply
To disturb you in the nude
I wanted to capture the moment
Even though I see it was rather rude

Please go on with your bathing
And I’ll return from where I came
And next time I see you
I’ll try my best to refrain

© 2018 Michelle Cook


The Painting is, September Morn.  By Paul Émile Chabas