From Geryon...
A poem, written by a friend...
I once shared a mountain home,
ivy wreathed and built of weathered stone
Hard gained by switchback,
under gentle bowered giants wended the trail
To the home of stone
ensconced in peaceful wooded vale
The home adorned with simple porch
upon which sat two worn chairs
There we tarried, talked and laughed
and spoke of dreams and deepest cares
There countless sunsets kissed the land
with reds and gold so bold,
Anew came each sunrise
throwing off the old
One day, it happened
that the trail seemed too hard, too steep
That the house was not my own rankled,
something I couldn't keep
My fears and doubts awakened
a most horrid, baneful gale
That did rend and shake the mountain
and the peaceful vale
The storm laid low the gentle bowered giants,
flattening them without bound
Morning found the trail a tangled mess,
no egress could be found
Now, then I realized,
standing there alone
What special thing that I'd lost
in the ivy wreathed house of weathered stone
Turning to the daunting task,
I surveyed the ruined trail
I'll clear the way with naught
but ax, tooth and nail
I'll replant the trees,
with time the gentle bowered giants will grow
Then I'll return to visit the mountain home,
ivy wreathed and built of weathered stone
Geryon - July 2006
Sister Willow
Sister willow drapes
low over singing stream
Branches held in longing sigh,
Sister willow nurtures a dream
To rise like an oak,
lofty, tall
A hoary giant,
soaring above it all
From dewy morning
to starry night,
Sister willow dreams
with all of her might
But those arrogant oaks,
lofty, tall
Rise sore of compassion,
no caring at all
She shades and shelters those
who come to the stream
Unguent to all,
outside of the dream
Even if the dream holds her,
one truth that is ...
Sister willow is beloved,
just as she is
Geryon - July 2006
I once shared a mountain home,
ivy wreathed and built of weathered stone
Hard gained by switchback,
under gentle bowered giants wended the trail
To the home of stone
ensconced in peaceful wooded vale
The home adorned with simple porch
upon which sat two worn chairs
There we tarried, talked and laughed
and spoke of dreams and deepest cares
There countless sunsets kissed the land
with reds and gold so bold,
Anew came each sunrise
throwing off the old
One day, it happened
that the trail seemed too hard, too steep
That the house was not my own rankled,
something I couldn't keep
My fears and doubts awakened
a most horrid, baneful gale
That did rend and shake the mountain
and the peaceful vale
The storm laid low the gentle bowered giants,
flattening them without bound
Morning found the trail a tangled mess,
no egress could be found
Now, then I realized,
standing there alone
What special thing that I'd lost
in the ivy wreathed house of weathered stone
Turning to the daunting task,
I surveyed the ruined trail
I'll clear the way with naught
but ax, tooth and nail
I'll replant the trees,
with time the gentle bowered giants will grow
Then I'll return to visit the mountain home,
ivy wreathed and built of weathered stone
Geryon - July 2006
Sister Willow
Sister willow drapes
low over singing stream
Branches held in longing sigh,
Sister willow nurtures a dream
To rise like an oak,
lofty, tall
A hoary giant,
soaring above it all
From dewy morning
to starry night,
Sister willow dreams
with all of her might
But those arrogant oaks,
lofty, tall
Rise sore of compassion,
no caring at all
She shades and shelters those
who come to the stream
Unguent to all,
outside of the dream
Even if the dream holds her,
one truth that is ...
Sister willow is beloved,
just as she is
Geryon - July 2006