Simple Spring Storm

An urge to step out into the night

Watching lace curtains of crystals fall through the street light

Beginning to wrap the tops of the spider leg branches

Covering the walkway with a wet sheen reflecting the glow

Hiding in the dark void, a comforter of white billows over the ground

Adding scattered starry sparkles that have fallen from above

The thin opening in the front window pulls cool breezes inside

To the accompaniment of an occasional slushy traveler on the street

Not the harshness of winter’s voice and frigid wrap

Just a simple spring storm, led by gentle drops that became crystal wings

Spinning toward the ground beneath the black gray abyss above.

First Spring Storm

The loving sounds of spring's first storm rumbling through the darkness out the front window tonight, matched with the few jagged streaks of light, 

a cooling breeze rising in intensity and the unmistakable aroma of the pending rainfall slipping in the open window. 

Not silent and ghostly like winter snow, 

this spring storm steps boldly out into the night with rising crescendos, 

soon to be matched by the clatter of the rain, 

giving rise to a bursting colored palette of new growth from the dark earth in the following days. 

Stay for a time, 

fill the ground with your precious gift,

sing your song through the night, 

like a lullaby bringing dreams to fill my sleep...

Tomorrow is Monday

Monday follows all too quickly... the dark of the night weighs heavy as the sounds of civilization give way to natures song, the crickets n frogs in distant ponds begin to over shadow the traffic, the turned down sheets beckon with a smooth cool escape from the day's chaos, a respite in preparation for the new day to come, take me away - away to my dreams where I can reside for all too short a time, give me hope and strength to face the new day, let me re-charge wrapped in the darkness and the fresh and calm night air, cause tomorrow is MONDAY----- ACK!!!!!!

December 23rd

The daylight is waning; the perception of warmth is dying with it
Stalactites seem to hang precariously from the edge of the roof
Their incessant dripping halted for the next few hours of darkness
While the craters in the snow beneath them form crystallized cups
Eager to hold the next day’s catch, liquefied by the sun’s radiance
Snow still covers the ground, now in a dusky yellow-grey color
Mimicking the diluted palate that veils the western edges of the sky
The dark scraggy branches of the trees dissolve into the murkiness above
Soon points of light begin to appear scattered loosely across the heavens
Then filling the void between them countless smaller specks come alive
The night sky glimmers and glitters like snowflakes in the moonlight
Turning from the front window the flickering Christmas candles and lights replace the stars
Filling the room with fragrances of pine and cinnamon while tinsel sparkles amidst the needles
Warming the room while foretelling the coming holiday celebration