Pikes Peak

Pikes Peak
"Spacious Skies"

Thursday, June 28, 2018

"Song of the Sea"




Song of the Sea
by Rainer Maria Rike

Timeless sea breezes,
sea-wind of the night;
you come for no one;
if someone should wake,
he must be prepared
how to survive you.

Timeless sea breezes,
that for aeons have
blown ancient rocks,
you are purest space
coming from afar...

Oh, how a fruit-bearing
fig tree feels your coming
high up in the moonlight.

The Lodge at Mio



Spring Comes on the World
by Emily Dickinson

Spring comes on the World -
I sight the Aprils -
Hueless to me until thou come
As, till the Bee
Blossoms stand negative,
Toughed to Conditions
By a Hum.

Wind Through the Trees




I Saw The Wind Within Her
by Emily Dickinson

I saw the wind within her
I knew it blew for me --
But she must buy my shelter
I asked Humility

"Sometimes With the Heart"


Sometimes with the Heart
by Emily Dickinson


Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few -- love at all.

Old Red Barn Of Days Past



The Old Red Barn
by Ewina Reizer

The old red barn that's been vacant for years
is a reminder of days long past.
In its day it was filled with so much  life.
But like all things it didn't last.

Now as I ride by it I wonder why it stands?
Why was it not taken down?
If it was capable of having a face,
surely it would be wearing a frown.

Gone are the sounds and the smells it had.
Gone are the people too.
The hands that worked there everyday.
These are the memories it knew.

"Why am I standing all faded and worn?
Why don't they do away with me?
I'm tired.  I'm tilted. I can't stand straight.
Is that what they like to see?

Maybe I'm a reminder as people ride by
of how things use to be.
Maybe I still have a purpose to fill?
Nostalgia, when they look at me.

Tuesday, June 26, 2018

Ranch in Huron-Manistee Forest



Hotz Brucke -- Frankenmuth Covered Bridge





Looking Glass River



Looking Glass River

By Robert Louis Stevenson

Smooth it glides upon its travel, 
Here a wimple, there a gleam-- 
O the clean gravel! 
O the smooth stream! 

Sailing blossoms, silver fishes, 
Pave pools as clear as air-- 
How a child wishes 
To live down there! 

We can see our colored faces 
Floating on the shaken pool 
Down in cool places, 
Dim and very cool; 

Till a wind or water wrinkle, 
Dipping marten, plumping trout, 
Spreads in a twinkle 
And blots all out. 

See the rings pursue each other; 
All below grows black as night, 
Just as if mother 
Had blown out the light! 

Patience, children, just a minute-- 
See the spreading circles die; 
The stream and all in it 
Will clear by-and-by.

My River Runs to Thee



My River Runs to Thee
by Emily Dickinson

My River runs to thee--
Blue Seal!  Wilt welcome me?
My River wait reply--
Oh Sea--look graciously--
I'll fetch thee Brooks--
From spotted nooks--
Say--Sea--Take Me!




Monday, June 25, 2018

Lake Huron - "I Will Wade Out"





I Will Wade Out
By E,E, Cummings


i will wade out
                    till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                  Alive
                                          with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                       Will i complete the mystery
                                        of my flesh
I will rise
              After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
           And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

Feeling without Thinking - Mack Lake

 



"A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feeling through words.  This may sound easy.  It isn't.  A lot of people think or believe or know they feel-but that's thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling.  And poetry is feeling-not knowing or believing or thinking."
-E.E. Cummings