First Haibun

I'm awake late this morning as usual, and I open the blinds to converse with the sun. A sliding glass door keeps me in, but the sunlit view floods into my dining room like an old friend in no need of an invitation. Delighted with the company, I stand and enjoy my good fortune. My full coffee mug warms me, but my bones ache at the sight of the cold beauty in front of me. Everything is just where it was yesterday morning, but today's visitor is unlike any other.

surrounded by wood
frozen and snow-capped in line
nails in a bare deck

Haiku in my Journal

climbing trees with friends
playing king of the forest
young poison ivy

hurry up!
white clouds race across
the blue sky

the red leaf defies
the inevitable fall
clinging to life

loud and indignant
the crow protests my presence
as if I can't hear

Window open, breeze,
moonlight, cicadas humming
summer's lullaby


How many nights until the first freeze? It'll be so much quieter then. The insects' songs are a major part of my summer memories...as an adult, I'm out on the porch swing after dark, "sittin and aswingin" as an old song says. As a kid, it was the sound we fell asleep to, especially in the years before mom and dad installed air conditioning for the upstairs bedrooms where we kids slept....

Hope you get a chance to listen to them, especially when the nights are cool enough to open the windows and fall asleep listening to the night sounds of your neighborhood.

This morning

Shivery breezes
bird song warmed with coffee
July's first surprise

Sweet Song

how sweet should he sing?
what lyrics would fill his tune?
little hummingbird

Coo -- Coo

lonely song
of the waning day
mourning dove

the peering

snow glows all quiet
like the peering of a deer
in the darkish night

Winter Storm 2009

The forest is locked in winter’s embrace
Ice laden limbs bow in submission
Fallen comrades lay lifelessly on the ground
The woodlands weep.

Mike Beville

Nature Poetry Worth Remembering

The bright moon lights the path
through the gray woods
From the unlit depths of the hollow
comes the soft sound of broken water
A faint brightness
or is it a low cloud
within the eastern sky
The earth is hushed

Harlan Hubbard
from his journal entry for February 2, 1953

On My Deck

ice is all abloom
on dead chrysanthemum stalks
Winter is reborn

The View Through My Railing

snow stacked up neatly
icicles hung in a row
Winter brings order

Brandon Point Haiku

Just a simple walk
Solace among the Heather
Wind, Soul, and Seabird nigh

To Worry No More - or Less

In December its easy to see
Hawks and waxwings
Flying from tree to leafless tree,
Olive, orange and rust against the gray.
And I worry they may lack
Berries and mice in such fresh, cold air.

Turning, as dry leaves stir
I remember
Who will draw curtains against the chill
Who will land this night in linen and lofty down
To worry no more - or less,
And who will tuck heads beneath a wing
And in the dawn seek well with keen eyes
Their daily fare

The fall of Winter

frozen flecks of white
on fallen color swatches
autumnal snowfall

Kentucky Skies

I was born under the blue skies of Kentucky, near the Nolin River flow,
Where the Thoroughbreds are racing, and the white face cattle grow.
I was raised on grits and taters, buttermilk and turnip greens,
Biscuits and red eye gravy, smoked pork and butter beans.
It was under Kentucky skies, that I was taught to be a man,
To do my best everyday, and lend folks a helping hand.
My Mamie taught me how to read, my brothers—how to fight.
A country girl on holding hands, and walks in the pale moonlight.
My Pappy taught me how to shoot, and how to rope and ride,
We sure had a lot of fun back then, under those blue Kentucky skies.
I like Kentucky mornins, honeysuckle spiking the breeze,
While the mockingbirds are singing, and dance in the sycamore trees.
I like Kentucky whiskey! I like my chicken fried!
I like to tend my cattle on the bluegrass country side!
Kentucky waters are the clearest, her grasses the greenest green,
And those bluegrass Kentucky women, are among the prettiest I’ve ever seen.
Kentucky horses are the finest, and you rarely see one buck.
By the way, did I ever tell you folks that I was born here in Kentuck.
It was under Kentucky skies that I met a pretty miss.
I courted her oh so tenderly, held her hand and stole a kiss.
I love that Kentucky woman, hazel eyes and auburn hair.
We still hold hands in the moonlight and breathe that sweet Kentucky air.
How could I have been so lucky? Guess it must have been my fate,
To be placed in old Kentucky, just next door to heaven’s gate.
May I die here with my boots on, while my mind is clear and sound,
Breathing the sweet air of Kentucky and walking on Kentucky ground.
Lay my body in a valley, beneath her peaceful sod,
That my soul may sore onto her lofty peaks , and touch the face of God....

“ The Witness”

I once stood tall, proud and majestic
In a small lowland meadow
At the edge of a great Oak/Hickory forest.
I was raised from the rich Kentucky soil,
By my Creator in the year of our Lord, 1751.
For over 200 years I have served Him
By serving the needs of others.
I have witnessed many things!
I am Caray Ovata,----- I am a Shagbark Hickory!

At the age of 40 years
I would bear my first fruit.
A nut with a sweet kernel, and excellent flavor.
Women came and gathered them
For the making of pies, cakes and candy.
Mammals came and stored them for winter forage.
Birds and animals built their nest,
And raised their young in my branches.
I have witnessed many things!
I am Caray Ovata,-----I am a Shagbark Hickory!

I have seen the eradication of the Redman,
The Passenger Pigeon, and the American Chestnut
From the land of my ancestors.
I have felt the blood spray of the American Revolution;
I have smelled the canon smoke of the War of 1812;
I have heard the cries of anguish from the Trail of Tears;
And my roots turned blood red in the great Civil War.
I have witnessed many things!
I am Caray Ovata,----- I am a Shagbark Hickory!

I stood in awe at the Western
Expansion, and the Industrial Revolution.
I rejoiced at man’s First Flight at Kitty-Hawk
And his Ascent to The Moon.
I have mourned the slaying of
Four American Presidents, Two World Wars,
And the Atomic Bomb.
I have witnessed many things!
I am Caray Ovata,----- I am a Shagbark Hickory!

I once stood tall and proud in a small lowland meadow
At the edge of a great Oak/Hickory Forest.
I grew to the majestic height of ninety feet, my girth and spread-----impressive.
Women were drawn to my beauty; Men envied my strength;
Children would swing from my branches;
And old men would gather in my shade
To talk of war and politics.
I have witnessed many things !
I am Caray Ovata,-----I am a Shagbark Hickory!

But when on a warm fall night,
In the year of Our Lord, 1975
I was struck down by a single lightning strike.
For over 200 years I served God
By providing for the needs of others!
Even in death I served.
Men came and gathered my trunk and branches
To heat their homes and cure their meat.
I had witnessed many things!
I now dwell in the memory of my Creator,
And in the hearts of the faithful.
Therefore, I am Immortal! My name is Carya Ovata,----- I am a Shagbark Hickory !

Maidenhair Fern Dream

She presses soft cheek
Against edge of misty stream
Her ladle swollen

My first haiku

wisps of pure white
track the infinite blue
early morning sky

Storm

thunder warns the dark
lightning exposes the night
wind blows sheets of rain

Waxing and Waning

dropping down into
waning colors of sunset
waxing crescent moon