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- Author
- 04/30/2025
- 798 Words
- 295 Views
- 9 Comments
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Abhean's Verses - 4. April 22 to April 28
April 22
Fishing
Before the oaks begin to break their bud
and maples with their flowers paint the ground
the willow nods green-gold above the flood
among the first with color to be crowned.
Beneath their arches, new trout swim the stream
To feed upon new insects hatching there
In places where the sunlight’s morning gleam
Reveals the presence of such tasty fare.
Yet standing at the roots spread on the bank
A figure there now casts with rod and reel
his wily quarry hoping to outflank
and end its gloried springtime as a meal.
So in the days that stream by brilliantly
thus also did you bait your hook for me.
April 23
Fate in the Grass
Upon the greening grass the robin waits
to listen for blind worms beneath the soil
so he with speed may strike
unwary prey in ways unsportsmanlike
no matter how their bodies twist and coil
for they remain resistant to their fates
as tasty morsels made for breakfast fare
or treats to give the nestlings in his care.
But every once in several whiles, perchance
a happening unthinkable occurs:
some lucky worm escapes
with nothing but contusions, welts and scrapes
because these annelida connoisseurs
forget in their unseemly haste to glance
around the yard for predators feline
that crouch behind the blooming columbine.
Alas, poor Robin, what to you befell
was not so much a tragedy as fright,
for with a squawk, you flew
and in that instant, breakfast slipped from view,
beneath the ground to burrow out of sight
so once again within the earth to dwell
while you your lucky stars may sing to bless
eluding thus a carnivore’s caress.
April 24
Two Observations of Old Age
Reminders
Of my mortality
Appear more frequently every week
In new aches that take over my knees and shoulders
and puzzling glances from my colleagues
or sunsets that leave me
without breath.
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Evening cumulus
shine brilliant with unseen beams
from beyond the ridge.
April 25
Unmended Friends
In my pocket there’s a hole
through it did my loose coins roll
down my trousers to my feet
there the dusty ground to greet.
Many times, I’d wondered whence
why my watch had wandered hence,
just to find it on the floor,
leaving me perplexed the more;
till I reached deep down one day –
needing change with which to pay –
but I found a void where seams
frayed and parted to extremes,
leaving me in funds arrears
and upon the brink of tears
stymied as I stood to try,
there a birthday card to buy
for a friend I did regard
yet the purchase would be barred,
when a handsome man, most kind
in his heart did pity find;
paid my balance, reconciling
with a winsome smile beguiling.
April 26
Morning Song
The last moon rises
beside the bright morning star
when the ridge glows pink.
~
Before dawn
The robins clear their throats
And sing out in their tuneful chorus
To wake the wrens and phoebes sleeping in the eaves,
Soon to modulate the sunrise theme
into a higher key
of sunrise.
~
White throated sparrows
sing to the meadow at dawn
when the mist rises.
April 27
Set Fear Aside
They’re coming for you, they’re coming for me,
with cudgel and gun and grenades that stun
wherever the stranger unknown might be
they promise to whisk away every one;
by wailing of sirens that pierce the dark,
the daylight abduction by black-clad men,
or sudden surprise laid to trap their mark,
they’ll bundle you off, never seen again.
It’s fear in our hearts that they would instill
so maybe we’d just draw the shades and hide
but bravery rises in souls that fill
with songs of freedom and banners of pride;
so join with your neighbors across the land,
together in unity let us stand.
April 28
Sorting
Last weekend
I sorted through old books
which gathered dust on the crowded shelf
and rediscovered there some old neglected friends
who sat with me through long hours of pain
or inspired in me an
urge to heal,
to rise up
a man more than I was,
better than renewed or refurbished,
but made into someone different to what once was;
I did not want to abandon them
to a donation box
at some sale;
thus I must
enter these tales again
and then release them, give them away
so that their power to comfort and to delight
may transform my neighbors and strangers
and lend them the same grace
they gave me.
I cannot thank you sufficiently or often enough for taking time to read these. I welcome any and all comments you may have, whether rant or rave.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.