Haiku for Frost

the frost's on the ground --
it covers the windowpane --
Old Man Winter wakes

Hello November

hello November
you came with howling winds
and blew away October 
till we couldn't look back again

hello November
you're cold and dark and grim
but full of anticipation
for pumpkin pie and autumn's end

hello November
we have you for Thanksgiving
and last short bursts of sunshine
before winter settles in

nostalgia~ (a prose poem)

(Originally this poem was posted on my regular blog.)

I want the days of hopscotch and blowing bubbles that went shining into the sun. I want to go back
to when going down the playground slide was like
an exhilarating fall to earth. Do you remember when the weather turning cool and the leaves
falling in cascades of color was as magical as a hot summer evening
 with fireflies lighting up the darkness? Why is it that we look back and childhood seems to be so rosy and
 beautiful? It's not like there weren't bad times along with the good.
Maybe we just remember the good more strongly because our brains
 are wired that way. Maybe we just remember the good more strongly because that's the way our society is.
Or maybe it's just that sense of protection, of love and joy that only a child
 untouched by the larger worries of the world can know.
Jesus said to have faith like a little child.
I think I know what He meant; we need to trust in those above us and allow them to shut out the world sometimes. Is this what heaven will be like? Maybe, but we won't know until we're there. Some days I'll think about my childhood, about the awe
and wonder that I knew as I discovered the world. And that it's beautiful, all around.
A touch of nostalgia comes to me when I see a chalk drawing on the sidewalk
and I smile as I remember the days of hopscotch and blowing bubbles that went shining into the sun.

under my umbrella

join me under my umbrella
watch the clouds roll across the sky
please take my hand
while the raindrops fall
hold me close
while the wind is blowing

until the rainbows stretch across the sky
and the sunlight breaks through the clouds
join me under my umbrella

Ghosts of Memories

floating

at the edge of my vision

a shadow of nothing

at the same time fully real

in these dark halls

i hear your echo

from where have you come

and why here do you stay?

waiting

the fog begins to clear

ghosts of old memories

at the edge of my sight

footsteps echo

and i turn in fear

but it is only a memory

from a long ago night

ghosts of memories

telling me stories

of love and of hate

and the great glory days

memories

fading away as i slip

out the door

into sweet sunshine

the shadows are gone

Fireflies

All the little lightning bugs

Flitting through the air

It looks like starlight dancing on the ground.

Sometimes I think I’ve

Caught a falling star

In the palm of my hand