Poetry Pages

“To these blue hills !” We raised a cheer Camped above the lake beneath the silver moon Cups raised we added - “Forever to be here !” One of many cheers since late afternoon Fine spirits flowed like mountain streams Into another morning arriving all too soon Golden glow of our fire and silver moon b...

Stretching from the ocean westward To the Appalachians and far beyond To the wide flowing Grandfather of all rivers Eagles, Osprey, many types of Hawks and Falcons Gulls, Pelicans and tall sharp beaked Blue Heron Fishing, hunting, swooping down with lightning speed Deer, Elk, Turkey and numerous cov...

Come frolic with me all through the day Into night under the silver moon Take a chance and come this way Should I expect your visit soon ? Take my hand and walk with me A bed of soft meadow grass we’ll share I’ll make you wild and set you free From your every little care In passionate bliss I taste ...

Wouldn't be the first time somebody eft an l out unintentionally. Although this poem's passion was felt by me, I would suggest that Hope research wildlife a bit more before writing of an animal's call or caw. I'm not all that familiar with old world species of Vultures,(Buzzards as we call them) but...

The Kestrel flitting through your parade Not at all inspired and unafraid A shaded figure moving beyond your fence Deep in the shadowy tangle, dark and dense Call of the wild, piercing and uncontained The thought of freedom drives you insane Something growling beyond your sight Or a passing stranger...

A late September early evening and already swarms of flying insects had began to visit our camp. Small wonder as the weather thus far remained clear and warm despite Autumn’s arrival. All through dinner common house-like flies and their more notorious metallic green kin took to swooping in on our gr...

Then my thanks for allowing me to sit at this fire, I've poems and wild tales.

Looney bin, eh ? Nah !

A meandering sometimes cascading flow where the conventional gets caught on rocks or snagged by streamside foliage.

Yeah that's me. Atehequa in my mother's language means Fisher a North American mustelid. Pellethie means Hawk.

Thought it be best to change my name as I've had my moments.

If one was to label, I'd be of a Crazy Poets Society.

If you wish, I'll move on,,

if not then we're friends

The new Spring budding in wild places Vibrant green in this warming breeze The birds sing away Winter’s last traces Fleeting farewell to dawn’s frosting freeze Sleepless through a night of lovesick cries Hooting, howling and many a shrill call Ever so loud when the campfire dies Until dawn when slee...