Archive for the ‘Nature’s Den’ Category

Raindrops on the leaves and grass
Time to mow!  Time to mow!
Until the rains pass
Make it grow!  Make it grow!

by:  Milyna Adriel Q. Stanphill   1148072408

An attempt at poetry by my daughter.  She saw me working on a poetry challenge one day and decided to give it a try.

I would say she did a good job on this poem, considering she wrote this one when she was not even six years old.  Or, is that just the proud mother in me?

in vibrant hue
painting rainbows
vivid in sunshine
in nature, a child

at morning’s dew
chasing shadows
floating in cloud nine
a fortune, that smiled

Yldara / Maria Stanphill
072010-04

August Moon, you shine on us all
a little less, somewhat bleakly.
A rugged globe with scars and rents
weighed down by truth, rather meekly
baring your naked, lonely soul
once veiled, in radiant silk stole.

Now, you seem just to coldly glance
at cracked, dry earth and withered grass.
Was it not but a while ago,
that you were fierce, an Irish lass
born to inspire, formed by fire;
silvern creature of desire?

Perhaps, mortals must be as gods
to bear the weight of such a load,
to weather three seasons, in hopes
and dreams of summers down the road:
echoing with laughter sublime -
for your sake, frozen fruit of Time.

Yldara 270807853

Fish paradise. An angler’s delight.
Bald cypress trees, in a ritual dance
With lily pads and lotus blooms, invite
White bass and crappie to take a chance.

Yldara 1611071257

Author’s Notes!

A quatrain that depicts both beauty and irony in the circle of life. Here, one brings together: man, fish, trees and other vegetation – in one spot, co-existing as they should.

I entered this piece of poetry in a poetry writing competition.  The results are in and praise and thank God, it was good enough to be accepted for publication.  Such a blessing, and another one to add to the list of things I should always be thankful for.

One: Wildflowers Or Not

Spring calls back the blooms
Carried off by autumn’s wind
A young bride walks by -
Tender blossoms in her hair

Two: In A Squall

Waves wait to be tossed
While a sailor reefs in,
His sail – weather worn
At the mercy of the seas

Yldara 081107123

Lustrous Golden Light

Shining center
source of glory
radiant star
of energy

Your gifted light
glowing, gilded
marks the passing
of every day

where all planets
are drawn to come
gathering round
year in, year out

Marking the time
in favored light
glistening still
-a sight divine

Yldara 2611070725

Light shimmers, beckoning one
to come closer. Be enveloped
in radiant warmth and comfort
so silently compelling

Tempting, inviting, in waves
undauntedly moving. Taunting all
to take a plunge and be immersed
in its silken silver rays

Yldara 2011070620

Nature calls out a warning
in terms all too certain.
More destructive weather
felt all around the world.
A sinking island, once home
to now displaced thousands.
From the plains of the West
to the top of Mount Kenya
more illnesses to fend off.
While man decides to change
or not, the ravages continue.
Mother Earth, she braces
for that which is inevitable.
For better or even worse yet
her future still lies in wait.

Yldara 281206200p

Egg fertilized
Two, four to 64
(Two to the sixth power)
Cell to larvae in hours

Hedgehog creature
Of the ocean floor
Many a tube feet
No legs or hands, it seems

Feeding on algae
Preyed on by cousin starfish
Eaten by crabs, wolf eels
Snails and sea otters

Your roes, a must have
A delicacy in sushi-land
No eyes to shed tears
Just spines that leave a mark

Yldara 121107411

Moon, you shine a silver gazed orb
in an August sky. Stars absorb
in silence, how mortals’ weep; sighs
for you: white witch of darkened skies.

In your arms, of shadows and light,
summer fairies dance in delight,
while lovers bloom and grow en masse
and sadness withers like the grass.

From you, endearing gilded globe
clad in Isis’ radiant robe,
whispers of fancy, nightly reign
willing bared troubles, to wane.

Quaint ball of a celestial sphere,
you, who make the obscure air clear,
must, in due time with grief declare
this summer’s end, by your cold stare.

Still, you glow, albeit less nobly,
duty bound to, quite probably,
weaving dreams of summers to come -
nearby, waiting, past twilight’s glum.

Yldara/M. Stanphill 170807147