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 Nov 2014
AFJ
It's been so long, too long..
if only this breeze would prolong its stay...

thoughts like, man a year ago the weather during this time,
was colder than today..

65 degrees. a New Yorker may laugh...
but a Cali kid is out here freezing his ***.
bonfire in the backyard watching the time pass,
the fire flickering, whispering the secrets of the past.

you should listen.

maybe you too will fall in love with the wind.
fall in love with giving thanks and hugging your kin.
fall in love with gifts, Santa, candles and grins,
finally make a resolution to put behind all your sins.

60 degrees. it gets colder as the night progresses..
you capture the essence, of the night..
and realize its adolescence.
it hasn't yet began to even grasp adult lessons..

55 degrees, feeling weak in the knees,
its been a week, since the tree outside had any leaves.
no fireplace, no heater just a ******* and cheese,
and take your *** to bed early before you get the real breeze.

50 degrees, I'm freezing to death,
more depressed now knowing that my babygirl left,

so I'm here all alone.
me, chardonnay and a cup.
fog surrounding, branches howling waiting till winter is up.




-afj
 Nov 2014
NuurSeraph
What will it take
Reaching out with
Supple touch
Such soft things
will suffer well

All good things
wait in hiding
with the Cresent
moon behind barren
tree branches
on the Other Side
of the night sky

All bad things
Cancel, Cancel
replaced with
Joyous Ease
Abundance
and Wonder
for All and
Everyone

Now I feel better
her Majesty
has come
The hum of the cold
still night strum
me into morning~
The hum of the cold still night strum me into morning~
 Nov 2014
Ann M Johnson
The first snow fall
Sparkling like diamonds
Even though it comes year after year
It seems magical
A newborn babies first cry
The look of Love in the parents eyes
It seems magical
The seasons changing from fall to winter
Spring to Summer
The preparations it brings
It seems magical
The blooming of flowers after a harsh winter
The fragrance they bring to the air
Makes me stop for a moment and stare
It seems magical
The first sunrise of each day
The rays of the sun
The moon at night to light our way
The starlight sky
So beautiful I could cry
The feeling that anything is possible
It seems magical
 Nov 2014
Elizabeth Squires
something twas awry with the piper's flute
a most inconsistent rhyme it did oft play
twas very much like an out of tune lute

he thought his flute twas cleverly cute
but a listener did detect its disarray
something was awry with the piper's flute

of the tune's sound the listener did mute
as it bought to the ear such dismay
he thought his flute twas cleverly cute

those discordant notes you can refute  
they've a rather off putting sort of splay
something twas awry with the piper's flute

at all times hearing must be acute
for the bearer of the instrument may stray
he thought his flute twas cleverly cute

whence tones don't uniformly salute
there's a cacophony in the aural bay
something twas awry with the piper's flute
twas very much like an out of tune lute
 Nov 2014
Jack
~

Crape myrtle highlights
in chartreuse diversions,
oak tree decisions along brittle stem
Maple leaf push pins and ash scented postcards
Autumn approaches, its fingers to send

Northern now breezes
as petals start falling,
blending the colors of November dreams
Days count much shorter and windows are open,
change in direction a’ dance on the stream

Standing behind me now
caught in the mirror,
reflections of summer and hummingbird song
leaves painted softer in patterns of wishes
butterfly tickles may happen along

Warm apple cider
and scarves plaid and woolen,
hang from the pegs in the entryway hall
Come again welcomes on echoes of sunlight
*send out the greeting, the coming of fall
 Nov 2014
phocks
a warm dawning sun
rises slow on hazy horizons
with winds wildly
blowing
down endless
interconnected currents
we wake up
to birds singing
timeless songs of morning
and our forgotten past
leaves us hanging
like willows weeping
in the rain
from this year's nanowrimo novel
http://phocks.github.io/nanoisms.html
Weeping Willows was selected as the daily poem November 10, 2014
 Nov 2014
Jessica Golich
I believe everything on earth has meaning and worth
Share; live like a tree, giving, forgiving and free
The richness of your heart and generosity of your spirit carry the golden ticket and paint a picture so prolific
Evolutionary insight while loving through your tattered parts has opened your mind and displayed quite the piece of art
Connection, inspiration, devotion, attention, and purpose are what you are here for on the earth’s surface.
 Nov 2014
Joseph Sinclair
Each year it happens.
The apple tree viewed from my balcony
gives up its fruit
until at last one solitary apple
remains high up,
beyond reach,
riper, redder, more robust
than any of the others
that have fallen or been gathered.

Unmoved by rain,
unshaken by winds.
It is as if
this one remaining fruit
is determined to resist
the onset of winter.

Day after day
I awaken;
raise my bedroom blind,
rub my eyes
and seek it out
amidst the protecting foliage.

At first resistant to my gaze,
it then proudly displays
its presence,
as if to say
“Behold, I still remain,
a testament to the perseverance of Fall.”

Each year I too remain
despite the apple’s everlasting reminder
that I myself am transient
and will one day
be shaken from my bough.

I am reminded of O. Henry’s last leaf
painted by an aged artist
to give support and strength and sustenance
to fading hope of life’s recovery.
Perhaps the apple, too, is but a dab of oil
on canvas.

Indeed, am I myself a product of
an artist’s keen, unfailing eye;
living in some vast
parallel universe
adjacent to and yet unseen
by all those bygone friends,
amidst an orchard of fallen, rotting apples?
 Nov 2014
wordvango
i stand
alone
until when
I am healed and not broken
like a mountain on the horizon
crested by the beauty of the moon.
I wish to shine in mists of golden
hues shed upon me whole
others stand alone
watching
the moon on my
shoulder
wish they were,
here.
 Nov 2014
wordvango
I say I am you
tree
roots and limbs and bark

I say I feed you as you feed me oxygen
we need each
to be

My roots are not covered
and I am not near as tall or robust
my canopy never will attain the beauty

nor hold leaves and seeds
into the sun like you
And then

I ask the tree,
who might you be?
He stands as he always has,

says, I am but a tree,
I bow and say amen.
 Nov 2014
Ruzica Matic
***
A memory is like a bird
with shimmering feathers
whose colours  you can never quite tell

They glint and darken
in a time it takes
for a bird's heart to beat

Once
Twice
Flutter
Falter

You can smell
a memory

Good ones
smell like mornings
and dews
and fresh bread

Bad ones
smell like wet earth
and wood
and candle flames

And the memories yet to come
tickle and tease
your hopeful mind
with promises of new smiles
and new heartbeats

Once
Twice
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