Summer's Ending

My very nice lady friend Cheyanne @ Y360 composed this very touching poem
to eNjOy the passing summer with utmost jOy
and I've made my request to post it here for all to share the view:-

The leaves are still green,
Vividly so,
The tree bark is A lively blackish brown.
All is so alive,
Yet summer is Drawing to an end.
Leaves soon will begin to Fade and lose their green.
Next they will change into Warm autumnal colors Of rust,
yellow and orange Followed by the Drying of the leaves.
Though summer just began,
It is drawing to an end.

In appreciation to Shirea Mills
in mid July 2008

P.S. - probably another Mid Summer Night's Dream, perhaps?

Pearls of Wisdom

I have re-Posted this poem from Jacqui BB from YAHOO 360 friends space

thru Cheyanne and in it he wrote:-

So I am hosting Poetry Wednesday this week in Sue's absence.

Sort of seems appropriate that I offer up a poem of my own.

And I have been rather rattling these off on demand of late but I don't think that is going to work today so I went leafing through those journals I have mentioned before.

I didn't even find a date on this until the next to last page I filled

(only about a third but every page a poem).

It is 1976. In the last year I believe of my relationship with a man named Bruce.

The one with the Masters in English and all but thesis on Doctorate.

He hated that I learned I could write.

I was not with him for 19 years so I haven't a clue of just what specific incident I am referring to in this poem. Likely a fight with my brother.

Far too many to be specific.

But not knowing I do not think lessens the truth in this poem.

Observe if you will

No tell tale frown

Nothing up my sleeve

Just behind my mind

Where quietly I air the linen

Review my past like a color guard

Passing in Review just out of yours

So I can pass judgmentI now pull it out for you.

Notice, if you will, the tiny facets

The minute changes of light

As I turn this prism of personality

First one way then the next

You'd never guess

The festered sore this tiny gem has created.

But a tiny grain of sand like so many, you say?

A mere chip off the rock of sand

And well have I hidden itEven from myself

Stored under gauzy tissue of laughter and flippancy

Smoothed and polished and coated and re-coated

To be a pearl of wisdom.

But the wisdom, my friends,

is in observing it

Pulling back the tender tissue

And wiping clean the gem

Then with a hammer smashing it

To reveal the original stone

The tiniest nugget of golden truthA trifle you say?

Well, perhaps

Perhaps once and maybe soonB

ut for now I give you the one, the only(Don't we wish?)

THE Pea which kept a Princess awake

Under not one, not two, not even three

But nineteen, count them.

Nineteen years!

Yes, Sir, Folks.

A more expensive trifle you've never seen.

It has cost us dearly.

(c) J.Binford-Bell 1976

Many thanks to Jacqui BB & in appreciation to Cheyanne.