Look at this thing, this gruesome thing, this shake-off from the slick.

A car mechanic’s rag, a bag of bile, a doodling hand that drags

a biro clot of crudeness up the beach.

This foul-up. This bird. This broken component of our world.

Then look at that: a flesh gorged kite, circling

while cluster bombs slake a starving nation’s soil.

America’s pin puckered vein, the fight for th...

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On a hot summers eve close to the twighlight,

the marble of crimson came rolling down past sight.

Misty clouds coating the ever changing sky.

birds whistle their last tune before slumber calls them.

Stars begin to light.

Soon it will be night.

Close to the twighlight.

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Swaying flowers,

passing hours,

birds in evergreens

happy smiles,

worth your whiles

and sappy little trees

muddy faces,

fraying laces,

and a gentle summer breeze

swaying flowers,

passing hours,

making memories

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Humming bird, buzzing bird

flying high, oh so absurd.

how i wish i flew to see the forming dew

then left another morning new.

there will be room for you.

on the star we'll fly so high

over, under, in the sky.

singing fairies lulabies.

watching rolling tides.

flying slow flying low,

over swaying medows

seeking stars that glow,

then going home.

T...

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There's mist on the Menai

There's geese in the sky

There's snow on the Mountains

As the mist rolls on by

It runs from the Swellies

To the Irish Sea

The mist on the Menai

Majestic and free

From the banks of the Briant

To Caernarfon's great ramparts

To the edge of the Llyn

Hear the Waders and Redstarts

There's mist on the Menai

Not a cloud in the sky

Th...

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WOODLAND WONDER

Gently caressed by the breath of the breeze,
branches sway atop tall lofty trees.
Restless leaves, to gnarled fingers, cling
wondering what freshness the new day will bring.

Hopping about on long leafy arms,
fluttering feathers displaying delicate charms.
Beautiful songbirds sing out their sweet melodies
in the grand performance of natures sweet harmony.

Bushy tailed...

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Ballad from my dream
September.15.1995 / September-7-2013
*Updated 2.20.2014*
Trisha M. Hopkins

I
Im enjoying my walk along outside
Enjoying the warm morning sun
Small animals begin to scurry and hide
Finally my work is done
Here comes some beautiful birds
I see them out of the corner of my eye
I try my hardest to them
But they are too far up in the blue sky
I begin to follow
This ...

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The fierce wind blows, yet the dew won't dry
On the petals of the lone rose blossom.
Sparse thorns stand raw, achy reminders
Of the wondrous lost dream of yesterday,
When the two golden birds sat on this branch
Staring into the infinite mirror of their eyes,
Rejoicing in the warmth of their evening song,
Delighting in each other's pure presence,
Basking in the divine light of Nature,
And ...

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