White Lights on the Trees

Constantly amazed

Lights hanging from limbs

Floating in the air

Like large lightning bugs

Telling the world that beauty exists

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Nature

Wind smells soft in the spring;

it smells sharp at the end of fall;

it smells hot in the middle of summer.

Wind smells wonderful.

Can anyone else smell it?

 

Rain smell special-

the pre-rain smell,

the during rain smell,

the post rain smell.

Are you inspired by that smell too?

 

Grass smells good.

If green had a smell, it would be grass.

Mowing lawns smells like victory.

(Grass smell is a warning from the grass, so it’s said)

Does grass make you think of life?

 

Leaves smell like fun,

crisp and delicious and crunchy.

Fall incarnate in smells and colors-

the superior season, pumpkin latte and all.

Is the smell of leaves comfort to you?

 

It is to me.

Seasons

Wind smells soft in the spring;

it smells sharp at the end of fall;

it smells hot in the middle of summer.

Wind smells wonderful.

Can anyone else smell it?

 

Rain smells special-

the pre-rain smell,

the during rain smell,

the post rain smell.

Are you inspired by that smell too?

 

Grass smells good.

If green had a smell, it would be grass.

Mowing lawns smells like victory.

(Grass smell is a warning from the grass, so it’s said)

Does grass make you think of life?

 

Leaves smell like fun,

crisp and delicious and crunchy.

Fall incarnate in smells and colors-

the superior season, pumpkin latte and all.

Is the smell of leaves comfort to you?

 

It is to me.

Snow

The snow muffles sound

It makes me think

“I am alone in this moment’,

As the white drops drift down

On the smooth black streets

With the world sounding in infinite noise

That is stopped by

The muffled white walls of soft

So temporary yet holding so strongly

And

My own thoughts

In my own mind

With words and worlds

Leaping from my heart

They want to come out and make the world shine

But

They never seem to come out right

Something always

Gets in the way

Like the snow

Quieting all of the noise in the world

And my mind

And the quiet peace is good

Until the paleness fades from my eyes

And the heat returns to the world

And my room of peace and cold, wet snow passes by

And the noise continues to flow. 

Wind

It bushed against my face, the scent of sun

And trees. My limbs outstretched, prepared to fly

No true attention paid; those eyes, this sight,

A girl prepared to rise and leave my form

“What are you doing?” a voice whispers to me

Eyes closed, I recognize the words, the tone.

“I want to fly.” Sighs, familiar, annoyed.

This happens quite often. Desires to go, take

Off into this mind, my mind. This one place

Where I may exist in peace. The wind, so sweet,

Lulls all my thoughts, and draws me deep into

My fantasy. In these, my longing dreams,

Then time will stop its flow and I will be

Set free. The bindings on my arms, neck;

Too tight to fly for real and I fly away.