And Spring Has Sprung

The day seems to have taken its leave...
Putting itself on instant delay;
Dancing 'round the razors edge of raindrops--
Lost in the misted praise...
Its beauty leans to within a degree of my deep sleep;
Whitewashed and splashed with sunbeams...
Spectrums of colours form at sky level....
Rushing through the leaves of the trees the wind takes a stand...
Flourishing in Springs verdance the green excites. Openings in the sod grow with new sprouts...
Over time the wilderness breaks itself open--
Harmonys tune resonates in high notes over the violets--
A sure sign that Spring has sprung;

The Essence
July,2010

poem by Theodora Onken
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Full Circle

Beginning 'neath the late Summer moonlight-
Embraced in the leaves of Fall...
Awed by Winter time and icy places...
But reponding to the Springs south wind call;

Lips tempting more to come...
Over the past months of weathered time...
Verging on passions filled Summer fire once again-
Ending in loves most perfect rhyme;

Dedicated to: The Passage of Seasons and Times In Our Lives;
To remembrance and Debbie Harry -Blondie and her songs-Call Me, One Way Or Another, Heart Of Glass and to her amazing performance on The T.V. Land Awards this evening.
April 25,2010. Thank you all for taking us on a walk down memory lane.

poem by Theodora Onken
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Summer Fall

'As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away'
No matter how tightly i hung on
The Summer would not stay! ;
The Autumn came in heavily
Weighted by its dying leaves
Their burnished-russet just blew away
Taken by more than an Autumn breeze;
For it 'twas an icy-icy wind
That took my mother that day
'Twas but a thief in the November night
Blanketed in: Grief Stricken Clouds Of grey;

For my mother
Who shares a birthday with Emily Dickinson
Using: 'As imperceptibly as Grief the Summer lapsed away'
As my inspiration
This was an Emily Dickinson quote

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When Death Is Nearing

They paced the room as restless
As an untamed wind -
As the old Sycamore swayed
Like a belly dancer -

The dust-swirling in copper eddies -
And the storms concern -
E'er raging -

The windows-pulsating heart thunder -
And nerves on edge -
Of the edge of the sill -
There was a crack in the Pain -
But it can be relieved again -

No news is good news-some say -
But the silence of death -
It mourns -

The bells are tolling once more -

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Insidious

Oh, but for all of their guile
Creeping from every direction
Cunning in their: Over The Rainbow...
Duplicitious in dubious selection;
Privacy 'twas splintered near ClearField
In days of a decade or so...
Insidious physical ailments-a Montgomery specialty
Only the carpet forensically knows...
The walls are clearly not hard of hearing...
Their power cuts in by three...
The air 'tis tainted from carpet fumes emitted...
The food and drink 'tis unfit for thee...
Oh, how the cold wind continues to blow
'Tis coming for a Cabel of: Birds Of A Feather...
Overwhelmed by all things now made clear...
Forcast for the group: Nothing but stormy weather...

poem by Theodora Onken
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Haunting Memories

Remembrance of your sweet lips

As sentiments, they go
Wind 'round my day dream day
Just like, a picture show

Your kisses were as magic

Raised my body heat so high
Leaving me scorching, inside
So hot, i thought, i would die

Un-requited after getting me there

No reason, no rhyme
Just a tease and a taunt
Why it outta, be a crime!

But, i still remember your kiss

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Garrison

Maybe it is him.
Maybe reading him has
Become my new religion.
An exercise into sophistication
And brillance.
But it seems that the wind has
Taken on new meaning.
It now seems ripe with promise...
A fertile awakening-if you will-
A giving birth-so to speak-
With awe so deep that it hurts.
Or that the outside world
Of nature seems to have
Been painted with double and
Triple coats of vivid.
That even the rose garden
And the once drab stones-now glisten.
Such marvels...
All because of him?
Were we meant to take

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Serendipity It Came Calling

Serendipity it came calling--
Rolling in the clover oh so green...
Glory and joy danced in sheer delight--
With the wind blowing 'cross the scene;

The Weeping Willow ceased her tears...
The rippling brook broke out into a smile-
Buttercups just melted their rich yellow--
'Twas a natures celebration that could be seen for miles;

Serendipity it came calling...
'Cross the golden orchards of yesterday---
Through the Gardens of Sweet Hapenstance...
Dancing with ecstatic glee through month of May;

Coming 'cross this oh so greatest splendour--
So fortunate were we to truly find...
This golden gilded opportunity so grand...
Thank you Mother Earth for this gift so kind! ;

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Gods Touch?

In swirlded the stardust...
From the corridors of the galaxies gates-
Dancing in joy and unison (a ballet of comets) -
Super Nova's of yesterdays fate.

A shimmering of a thousand and one starlets.
Appearing like crystal clear diamonds in the sky-
In one corner of The Firmament-
Glistening asteroids shoot on by...

Oh the Heavens are so welcoming-
As many epiphanies emerge from their source-
A throne upon high with our Lord at the head-
A crown renewed, as Gods almighty force...

Pleasantries have no room now...
For serious issues must be addressed...
Honoring Him with all of my might-
As the wind on my cheek certainly must be His caress...

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BirdSong Part Two

A gentle trill comes through the breeze
A warbler sings its song
'Tis the Deity's Golden Rhapsody
How could such beauty e'er be wrong?
Gentle feathers plume their pride
In the mornings most dewy glow
A choir of feathered Angels upon the wing
Drown out morose cries of days woe
Our birds are true Aristocrats
Their own melody-a reigning crown
Dressing up a kingdom of bucholic vales
Bringing forth smiles instead of frowns
'Tis a Birdsong World- i am told
'Tis a Birdsong Season- O' Spring
So sorry to eventually see them all go
With the Winter the cold wind brings
Birdsong -Warblers travel deeper south
Seeking they -the warmth O' the Sun
Bringing their Psalms of Godly songs
To deep south climbs- where Spring has just begun

poem by Theodora Onken
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~ Target ~

As if colliding in a causeway of disbelief
Today, betrayal showed her ugly face
In the daylight of myself alone and falling
I am forced to examine your undeserved grace;
Panic had nearly forced my hand, yesterday
On the who, what, when and where stage
Your life ROLES are real mood shakers
Bringing forth in me, a silent rage;
You are turning out to be my winter of undoing
In a world where my faith had again to begin to grow
Chilled to the marrow of my bone by icicle. slicing
Closing my VOICE as your night wind begins to blow;
You are not my cup of coffee
She is not my freckled-orange haired amazon friend
The two of you truly deserve one another
I will not be your means to an ends;

By, Theodora Onken

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Seer? ? ?

Again my visions are hidden- (behind 3rd eye)
Again springs of water burst forth-
Tucked in the depths of my silent wall...
Heads are turned once again to the 'North'

Again-happier days begin to arrive...
Again sadder days slowly fade away;
As we all drink from the 'Angels' most loving cup-
'The Boatman', at last, allows his sails- in the wind to sway;

Again the fever comes calling unto me...
Again it knocks upon my very door...
And the visions once so deeply hidden to obscure-
Are alive- much like a cloud aburst-my tears just pour;

Knowing without really knowing how...
This once sorrow of truth churns inside of me-
Fast forwarding me to future times...? ? ?
My despondency 'tis tossed to the mighty sea;

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Eagle-Eyed

A shining coil of wind flaunted itself-
In a desperate ploy as the snake slid away-
While Goldfinches reach for the top of the tree-
A tinsel-eyed fish jumps the water in play...

Some things in this world are out of reach...
Nevertheless, We look morning, noon and night...
This tells you that we are not simply standing around-
Waiting for Easter Lilllies to bloom ever bright.

For time, it simply does fly-
The sands in the hour-glass continuelly flow-
The Blue air continues to circulate(pollens?) -
And the little Gold Dolls, the Goldfinches prepare to go...

But everything in this world comes a bit closer...
Fluttering like sequins from the corner of the sky-

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George Orwell's Building - a family dwelling on my street

The Doorman 'tis the guardian of the building-
As the traffic enters in near herds-
Raising a smile is so much easier-
Than waxing poetic 'neath an umbrella of words;

The entrance-it has no exit...
As is oft' such in this overwhelming game of life-
And the Aspens that line the street outside the building-
Wind-wave their own branches of strife;

Never mind the facts about the rains of discontent...
Or that the storm clouds cover up the full moon-
Lunacy and anger all have their own place to reside-
Their rent paid in full at: 'Highnoon';

The building itself is wrapped in cables and pipe-
And is taken care of by a dubious '1984' Crew-
'Big Brother' has taken up housing and all monitering...
Long before the dawn of the new day breaks through;

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Don't YOU Know? ?

Don't YOU know what YOU All are doin'?

Havn't YOU any care in YOU at all?

How do Ya' ever sleep at night?

Down this old River Walk...YOU Fall;

The Seasons they are a changin'...

The leaves of time are blowin' 'cross the plains...

Frost and icy wind comes hollerin' after YOU...

And the ole Sun is Beginning to wane;

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Changes

Can you hear it calling in the wind?
Winters chilling sigh?
Howling brisk icy waves
Over freezing days she cries;
Winter will soon leave her fingerprints
Everywhere in the snow
White noise will loom in the atmosphere
It's eerie silence shall grow;
Comes the world at a standstill
Perilous roads-difficult to drive
Sparrows bearing the icy lace
With the thaw they will survive! ;
Tree branches weighted heavy
With many a bough to break
It's a white frosted Mother Earth
Frozen pond-once a lake;
Resting or in mourning -for losses
Repose or utter despair...
Longing for the energy of the Springtide
And the arrival of warmer April air;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Indian Summer Wonder

What is this field of flowers?
With cover of blue sky & Autumn sun?
Roses still abloom aplenty
Even as frosty day has begun
Marveling at the forms and shapes of it all
I wander myself down the violet lane
Noting the perfection of this Indian Summer
The self-blazing flowers call out my name
The motion of the wind in the tree branches
Dress up this discrete journey i am on
Caterpillar moves slowly along one of its leaves
As the Warblers break forth in new song
Glorious-glorious Autumn simply dances
As delicious pumpkin and spice fill the air
Indian Summer romances this Earths landscape
While i kneel for a: Thanksgiving Prayer
Praying for all of this goodness to always be
Asking for many a glorious days noon
Basking in this hour of breath-taking splendour
While embracing a most brillant Harvest moon

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poem by Theodora Onken
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A Making Of Love

It was in the early morning of need...
Where seduction came face to face...
Left behind in the early evening of first desire-
Upon the wings of sweet love... it raced;

No minutes were lost in awkward foreplay...
Only lust and its most trusty friend-
A teacher in the art of Tantric Love Making...
With patience and a love story- thus penned;

Tenderness and kindness were all needed...
Crossing the barriers of sky...
As two trees blown into one another...
As if Heaven had descended the sky;

The wind knew of this climax...
As the mountains flashed a knowing smile-
The flowers bloomed full for the occasion...
Bedded deeply-a love to last for a while;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Cowpoke

Creeping down the roads of never ever-
A tumble weed blows 'cross the plain...
Up and down-then round and round-
Wonderin' if its you once again! ;

You have this rootless way about ya...
And its sneaky as devious can be-
So glad that the suns finally shinin'...
'Cause you might a' been the death of me;

They say that they don't come much meaner-
And that you enjoy dishin' the pain...!
But always 'neath a mask of make believe...
You are blowin' in the wind once again;

Your true colours are startin' to show tumble weed-
And more and more cow pokes agree-
That a rootless old tumble weed-blowin' with speed-
Is at last loosin' his ability-to clearly see;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Alexa))) -Aka-(((Billy

It's two steps forward for you
And three steps back
You, residing in insulation and cob webs
Waiting...waiting...waiting to attack

A reason for treason?
A mercenary for hire?
A Tommy wind mill helper?
It is toward the green-back you aspire

No feelings of remorse to cease you
Cold with absence of affect
Stoic as a monolith standing solo?
Your footsteps, i failed to detect.

But oh the smoke...yes the smoke (cough)
You given away by vents nearly closed
Slats and boards and boxes stored with records
Where diviant monsters grow extra toes

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poem by Theodora Onken
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