Soul Searching

Summertime and my heart is happy
Every bloom exudes a sweet perfume
Delicate creatures on feathered wings
Warble songs that fill the air
Butterflies without a care
Rays of sunlight filters through
The paths I take the one I knew
Let me walk in peace
Enjoy the simple things in life
And never strife to hold
What is not mine to keep
Then, when I go to the place I know
It will not count who I was or what I had
Only, was I bad?

poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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On Roanoke Island

On a summer day not long ago
I walked through the forest
On the Island of Roanoke
To my great delight there was not a soul in sight
All I saw was the sky and the sea
Seagulls flying rapture awaiting me
Spears of sunlight broke through a haze
Right by the old fort that mysterious place
It was then I felt I should not fail
To unravel a secret of long ago
What happened to the first colonists of Roanoke?
I summoned my courage to call out his name
The only person to know of the scheme
" Manteo" great Chief of the Island of Croatoan
Please shed some light onto what seems a terrible plight
There was a young mother named Eleanor who carried a child
So precious and fair all through history
We have known her as Virginia Dare
Silence… the call of a Jay a whispering breeze and I went on my way
It was then that I knew I would fail to unravel

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poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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Childhood Memories

Each hour that passed and every moment
Gone by become a memory
There will be sad ones but most happy and gay
Childhood memories like models of clay
Sunny days spent along the river edge
Resting in clumps of clover
Picking flowers to overfill
Endless hours spent on violet hill
A race to the very old tree
With a feeling of being so free
To dance around it's matronly base
Every one ready go let us chase
That elusive butterfly purple and blue
The world only belonged to me and you
A plunge in the river immersed in emerald green
In touch only with silence a silver sheen
Drifting down to pebbles and stalks
A world of pleasure beyond believe
It once was mine but not to keep

poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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The Day My Soul Flew Free

Undaunted by troublesome burdens
On a day when clouds darkened the sky
I unburdened my soul and let it fly
No earthly bondage was able to hold
My spirit was soaring and feeling bold

Behold all the beauty you're able to see
At the time of my travel the world was still free
Nor draught or destruction plagued the land
But a calm perfection catered by hand
God's unsoiled planet and all its land

Snow covered mountains and trees so tall
My heart felt like bursting taking in all
The rivers flowed flawless and unabashed
Silent forests and waterfalls splashed
Meadows and valleys in sunlight bathed

Upon my return my soul just wept
Seeing so many landmarks unkempt

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poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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Morning Reflections

One early morning
I looked into the mirror
And remember the day
My reflection told me
Now don't run away!
Those wrinkles resemble
Years spend in the sun
And if you remember
Admit they were fun
The lines on the forehead
So long and so deep
You got from getting to little sleep
The smile is still the same
A little more weight is not a shame
The feet get quickly tired
But walking on the road still gets me wired
The long hair that once blew in the breeze
Has been shortened and ceased
Life still trills me and happiness fills me
To wake and hear a robin sing

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poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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The Significance of Freedom

Spread your wings famed American Eagle
And soar over the land that has seen its share
Of beauty sorrow and great change
Fly into the rising sun and listen to the beat
Of morning drums on the hillside
Dive into the blue water and grasp the hapless fish
Unaware of your magnificent presence
Use your ever prevailing intellect to sustain you
When lean times arrive and a snowy blanket covers all
Your friend is the warmth of a beguiling summer day
To us your presence assures freedom and strength
To proudly pursue and revel in your mystique
Let us feel honored sharing with you the same land
That we may never forget what truly matters and let
Your symbolic presence remind us we all share
"The Land of the Free and the Land of the Brave".

poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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Voices in the Wind

Once honor ruled while necessity and obedience made it a common courtesy
Slowly like sand in an hourglass time flowed while life was lived
Death celebrated and memories stored
Tepid breezes emboldened by a perfect sun caressed the planet
Then like a thief in the night tempest dredged from the bowels of hell
Beseeched the planet and the voice in the wind was silenced
Turmoil ruled the planet and war became the glorified hero assessing his power over all living tribes
Under the yoke of dread the people labored the strong grew wicked and disagreeable
Not only life but nature turned her back upon such disrespect
Brazen disregard and poor judgment had altered the gift of the onetime perfect plan
Foul air and water, the oceans emptied of its bountiful creatures
Warfare became a daily pitch, greed, terror, bombs and death
Answered was only the trumpet's call for destruction
Heed the voice in the Wind for time is short to heal the wounds
In the end nothing will matter
When nourishment flows from your breast mother instill love, not hate, compassion not neglect
Neither Jew nor Arab, black or white, rich or poor has preference in the terrestrial realm
Most wonderful is the beauty of a morning meadow in the sunrise compared to barren rubble strewn over the land
It has been said before, how many years counted by the hundreds have to pass like sand through the hourglass
Before we all realize that all is nothing and nothing is all.

poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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An American Fanfare

I love this land sublime America
Beseeched by all the beauty that I saw
The place where mountains crown the land
Clear water from the streams ran loving through my hands
The Lakes and Parks a pleasure
The streaming waterfalls a treasure
Pacific Ocean waves touch beaches full splendor
With sand so white it is a wondrous sight
On the summit of Mt. Lassen
The view a special treat
I could not help but feel the beauty at my feet
The haunting ruins of Mesa Verde
Covered in a shrouded mist
To emerge a short time later
Seeing Cliff Palace sun kissed
I heard Old Faithful rumble
Before it spewed its plume
Of water vapor steam and mist
Made this display a truly wonderful artist
The mighty Trees in the Redwood Forest

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poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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