Tag: changing seasons

Poetry

Renewal of Winter

Friday March 13th
brings an ostentatious snow
one more winter show

Tags 2026, canada, Canadian poetry, canadian writer, changing seasons, Friday the 13th, haiku, Impermanence, March, niagara, snow, snowstorm, spring, temporary, winter

Poetry

Precipitation

Spring rain washes ‘way
last year’s odd residuals
feelings that won’t stay

Tags buddhist poet, canadian writer, changing seasons, death, discrimination, emptiness, feeling, haiku, Impermanence, poem, Poetry, seasons, short poem, spring

Poetry

How could I forget the taste
of peanut butter and honey
with sliced banana, open-faced
a delightful sandwich, toasted, plain
another sign spring has arrived
the cravings change when March is come
now savouring thick-spread-stuck tongue
quite pleasant and filling, nutty delight
cheap and easy with purse strings tight
indulging breakfast, lunch and dinner
this woman’s sandwich is the winner
one also recognizes the time of year
in the twitterpated words they hear
the birds still dressed in clothes austere
mourning dove then robin, now killdeer
all sing the song that spring has sprung
while I enjoy my buttered tongue

Tags changing seasons, changing suffering, craving, creative writing, female poet, food, food poetry, peanut butter sandwich, poem, Poetry, restless, samsara, sandwich, spring time, twitterpated, unpopular opinion: honey is better than jam, women's work

Poetry

Sensational Assault

shining jewel clusters
        break open the escarpment
like precious stones waiting to be mined
        brilliant leafy treasure
             blasts of magnificent colour
                  explode across the rocky grandstand
             backdrop to the season’s splendor
        its once generous green given way
        to greedy autumn’s foliage display

absent emeralds
        stolen by nature’s alchemy
   redeemed for rubies, garnets
                            amber, gold
        the greatest illusion
              of    tempered grandeur
        before the bitter cold

it should be forbidden
        that beauty unfolds
        so lithely in loveliness
                before its death
dappled luster’s ugliness
                only revealed up close
moths have chewed endlessly
        leafy veins, now begging bowls
blackened edges encase
                               slug-gobbled holes
not unlike the singed suffering
        of cigarette-burned abuse

maple’s steepled points
                   waxed and dried
crunchy now upon crisp earth
        hard to understand its worth
        its place in time,
        once life, once food
        now dead, now dearth

and oh the scents! I cannot forget
     the dampened clay and rotting fern
        sickly sweet suckles long dried up
a sun-baked bog with willowed dregs
the sunflowered smells twist into sound
scritch-scratching of squirrel toes in trees
chipmunks squeak, thin branches break
                           acorns land in leaves
a buzz of daubers, wasps and bees
        harmonized with the last cicada song
too soon the symphony will cease
               and tarsi tickles won’t be found
not for so long!            so if you please…

I beg for just a bit of time
        to exhaust under this dying sun
        that scalds with will to kill all life
        that incinerates the weak and blind
leave me alone to work my mind
        and feel the last blaze of the year
        striving not to shed a tear
        striving not to feel false fear
that knights permanence on temporary conditions

I will be strong        and wise
        and remain loving, kind
though winter has its eternal quality
        once here, ne’er gone
                still… it must go eventually
                we’ll see…

just let me loaf in this season’s sun
        to soak in such sensational torture –
                   intense, so brief, so fun –
                        ending soon,
                        hardly begun

Tags autumn, canadian author, Canadian poetry, changing seasons, creative writing, fall, forest, grasping, ignorance, nature, poem, Poetry, seasons, seasons change, senses, writing

Poetry

seasonal grasping

The hum of cicadas is gone
replaced by rustling leaves
an overcooked sun slices
a chilled-wine breeze
cutting through and pressing
against me like a lusty body
celestial and far away, still
grazing skin with intimate familiarity

May the imputed I rely
upon this mere meat sack
only long enough to satisfy
the necessary attainments
then may I move on effortlessly
to the next nest, to abandon all
to abandon none

Tags 2025, autumn, changing seasons, cicadas summer, fall, I, me, meat body, mere imputation, my, sun

Poetry

Summer Affair

Not fair!

I said I wouldn’t become
attached to you,
changing condition

yet, so much sorrow
fills minds that grasp
at the losing

a mistaken conception:
yes, it is the summer
that offers me joy

so easy to believe
when winter brings
us pain – in joints,
in frostbitten fingers
in the minds of
jealousy when our friends
flee to now-appreciated
tropical timeshares — now

no more summertime
to share

one dream ends
while we’re trapped
in another

romantic autumn’s
place will come, when
this dull and tiresome
sadness becomes boring
to my fitful, grasping mind

but now, I see only
a broken promise to myself
I wouldn’t become attached
I said

I must have failed
why else would I lay
blame with the season’s change
for my woe

Tags appearance vs. reality, attachment, autumn, changing seasons, creative writing, karma, nostalgia, poem, Poetry, sadness, seasons, summer