Hawk Circles

Sharp cries ring out across the sky
white feathers fly, then fall
the death defying scene plays on
for some, but not for all.

Mushroom Musings

Words to live by

When deciding

whether to

or whether not

to eat a mushroom

that’s not store bought

Rule of thumb,

stay away from red

don’t be dumb

or you may be dead

--- Fred Brown © 2013

A Mushroom Undertaking

A most deadly occurrence

you will find with assurance

if a taste of the fungus

you crave

Without careful observance

and some expert concurrence

there's not one among us

that brave

So let us use common sense

forego all foolish pretense

or those mushrooms will buy us

our grave

-- Fred Brown  ©2013

Sunday Best

caps and bonnets

smooth and rough

fine as sonnets

soft as fluff

dots and stripes 

and plain vanilla

dressed to kill

if you dare taste a little

-- Fred Brown © 2013

Love and Lipstick

Killer Lipstick

Hope burns

Lips stick

Kisses kill

Glasses clink

Bubbles die

Tears pour

Hope fades

Love lies

Duplicity

Love lies softly

  in the quiet stream

    with promises it never means

      to keep, and goes on flowing

Ode to the Sea Palm

Postelsia and me
have a thing for the sea
though one of us holds it more dearly

It can sway to and fro
and never lets go
we dance, but we do it discretely

 Images by Chuck Bancroft

Bird Island Paradise

A pilgrimage to a place to
face the wide and endless sea
the world at my back while
watching the cool translucent
waters below sparkle heavenly
rising pelicans glide in formation
soaring on the wind
with little effort
I take a step as night herons
barely visible on unapproachable cliffs
stand stone still and wait
while I catch my breath
once more
pain melts into the horizon
unfurling then fading as fog
blankets and blurs
the mind
remembers what it had lost
and found again 
in this sanctuary

Narrow Binding

Burned so as not to offend

views that differed

and could not bend

to hear a voice

to spark

a choice.

Tribute to Ray Bradbury

Seal Song

I asked the mottled harbor seal to take a walk with me

there are so many things out here, I’d love for you to see

cities gleaming in the sun, fine friends for company,

some lovely spots where you and I could stop to pour some tea

and take some time to talk about our common ancestry.

Resting on a sunlit rock, 

he merely yawned at me

raised his head and seemed to talk, 

Why not come and follow me?

Then he simply smiled and winked, and slipped into the sea.

Come swim with me, far from your shore

his forlorn eyes implored.

We’ll chase the fish and toss and flip

there’s castles to explore.

For if you wait, my siren song will fade and never more

Will you and I, meet eye to eye, upon the ocean shore.

Soon you’ll find that man is blind, and this will be no more.

I stood upon the silent shore

as he swam out to sea.

I’ll never go, and never know,

though he keeps calling me.

--- Fred Brown, BSP

© 2012

The Harbor Seal

I watch with a most painful expression

as they do their very best impression
of pulling on pants too small and so tight
as they wiggle up with all their might
to sun themselves in broad daylight.

They lie there, oh so very still
and most folks think they never will
get off the rocks and swim away
they just seem to stay all day.

But then, like falling off a log
with soulful eyes, just like my dog
they slip back in their comfort zone
wiggle off the craggy stone
and slide back in the deep blue sea.
I wish I could be that free.

Rememberance

Her eyes are pretty still
Still in the ground.
Ground so soft and clear
Clear out to sea
Sea blue-green, and still.
Still, I see her still.

The Coast

Fog will marry land and sea
and cloak each one in mystery.
While sunlight parts the playful mist
wind blows each a farewell kiss.

And hidden there, from you and me,
The answers lie, eternally.

Audience Participation Encouraged

The morning dew hung like jewels on an intricate geometric necklace of woven sticky silk.

The bedabbled beauty was captivating and belied the danger

softly silent in the shadows.

The creator fashioned the enticing vision to feed her hungry cravings for performance art, 

using only a net and acting purely on instinct, she recreates the bedazzling designs every evening.

Choices

What would you say

if we didn’t go there today,

and went, where our dreams might take us.

We’ll just follow the breeze

and do as we please;

lie down with the sun on our faces.

We’ll whistle along

with the song sparrow’s song

and be happy, to trade places.

It’s a place no one knows

where we wiggle our toes;

careful, to not leave any traces.

And it seems oh so right

to be with you tonight,

warm, in your loving embraces.

So, what would you say

if we didn’t go there today;

and went where our dreams, will take us.

Reflection

I like the way the sunlight

reflects off the blue green sea

the way the rocky cliff

holds the twisted Cypress tree

the way the seals and otters

sometime stop, and look at me

and wonder how and why 

this ever came to be

reflecting on the future

that holds wonders yet to see.

Rainbow Goblins

Iris playfully throws her colors, across the pale gray sky
Where rainbow goblins watch and wait, to drain the colors dry.
All the precious colors, made by her loving hand
are from spring time flowers, gathered throughout the land.

First Red, from roses, just for luck
the poppies lend the Orange hue,
then little Yellow, buttercups.

Strong lacy Green ferns know where they go,
wild lilacs make up royal Blue, 
periwinkles are bright Indigo.
Sweet Iris provides soft Violet, 
--- seven colors you must not forget.

She dips her arrows in the brew,
and shoots them quietly into the blue.
Locked in prisms of water and light,
launched by bow to give them flight.

The spectrum of colors in a perfect arch
painting silently on its towering march,
has a beginning and an end
--- for what goes up, must descend.

Waiting in cold dark caves below
the goblins know just where to go                  
to steal the treasured beauty caught,
then bleed the colors into pots
and store them in their deepest holes
where roots from many flowers grow.

While the furry goblins sleep,
the tendrils reach out and steep
the pots of rainbow colors deep,
and suck them up their long green stems,
to blossoms of spring flowers again.

When

I wish I knew the way back home.
Through quiet rooms I often roam
with silent sounds and muted tones,
Forgotten thoughts that rang so clear --
Now precious few are held so dear.

I wish I knew what I knew then.
Warm summer days that couldn't end
Lying in the grass to play --
I never knew I couldn't stay;
I never knew there'd come a day.

While time unfolds and never ends
Our days are measured by our friends,
The sun, the stars, the moon, and us --
In the end you know we must
Take that ride and return to dust.

I wish I knew it wouldn't end.
I wish I knew
What I knew when.

The Otter

A sweeping diving twirling motion,
then sleeping, floating on the ocean.
One thing's pretty clear to see,
the otter  -- does not envy me.

Magic

The world is filled with magic

It is a truly magical place.

Wonder and enchantment abound

it is the fabric of our existence.

Yet we strive in the most arduous ways

to ignore this

we cannot comprehend what created

our reality with its order and predictability

this illusion is profound

the reality is ephemeral

Without the unpredictability

that exists in every moment

as the future arrives and time bends

life would not exist, magic would disappear

Some magic can be observed

most cannot

It’s there before our eyes

though they fail us and trick us

Our carbon based neutrons, electrons and quarks

observe as best they can

but we are forced to choose

between

 strongly felt contradictory thoughts held concurrently

without either being correct or being incorrect

Yet we strive to make the choice.

We accept both outcomes, though

One must be wrong

ambivalence with conviction.

go to your magical place

observe

and enjoy the moment

Moon Poems

Moon Child

Your beauty lies in reflected light, that lovers do embrace

tethered to your mother's breast, always in your place.

As you wax and wane,
I feel your pain

of yearning to let go.

Flying to the Moon

a feat so few will know

escaping to another world

from the hectic one below.

A cool and reflective place

to while away the years,

yet longing to see your face

and wipe away my tears

Moonlight

The moon shone in my skylight just the other night,

A bright blue stream of mysterious soft milky light.

It formed a perfect door projected on my wall,

so I opened up the portal, and wandered down the hall.

I could not find the footprints to get me back in bed

so if you hear some knocking, and soft whispers in your head,

throw open all your shades and let the lunar light walk in.

Haiku

Lace lichen hangs nets
passing fog turns to water
trees bow and whisper

Lace Lichen

The lichen casts its lacy net

to catch the passing fog.

A simple task well done, and yet

It works without applause.