Adeeyoyo's Blog

I write what I feel…


3 Comments

Night, Wind and Son

Post No. 871

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Night, Wind and Son

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I wake in the night

To the moon and stars

Shining ever so bright

Embellishing the skies

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The wind whispers His name

Rustling through the trees

Who are you, I ask

I am He, it replies

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The Son, heaven’s crown

Blesses all He shines upon

Bringing life-giving rain

Relief from heat and pain

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©Denise G Allen, 09 September 2015 18:04


2 Comments

Golden Tree

Golden Tree

Golden Tree

Post No. 867.

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Golden Tree

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With the change of season

Some trees are bare(ly) there

Others still fully clothed

Some covered in fruit blossom

But this one caught my eye

Sunlight filters through golden leaves

Tree of knowledge from the garden

or fake gold for a fake world

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©Denise G Allen, 04 September 2015 15:08


2 Comments

Dark & Light

Post No. 817

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Dark & Light

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Darkness conceals the night

Stillness weighs heavy as the grave

A lone(ly) bird breaks the silence

Kwa-keh he calls but to no avail

Kwa-keh

Quiet replies

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Yesterday the dark was light

The air sheer as the wind blew

Birds slept in silence

Rocked by the trees

Boughs creaked in protest

Throughout the forest

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©Denise G Allen, 08 June 2015 11:02


2 Comments

Evolution

Post No. 790

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Evolution

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As I gaze at the small green triangle, that was once a wide

Grassy hillside, I see the haze, the mist, closing in slowly,

Creeping downward and blanketing all in its path.

Where once there were meadows, streams and

Strong green trees, now human ants have eaten

Them all away, leaving only a concrete jungle,

Expanding by the day. Progress? Or regress?

I would rather the flower-filled view,

Changing with the seasons,

Than the neat, cemented, sanitized structures,

Impersonal clones that we call homes.

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©Denise G Allen, 10 April 2015 09:36


6 Comments

Winter Arrives

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With the dawn came the cold;

The light of day has given way

To dripping nose and frozen toes.

Gone are the gold and russet leaves,

Skeletons are the remains of trees,

Arms and fingers held up high

Reaching beseechingly to the sky

Diamond chains hang from taps

Reflecting light from a watery sun

Whose weakened rays lack strength

To warm our cold, cold earth

As we wait for the world to turn.

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©Denise G Allen, 12 April 2014 06:57


8 Comments

Listen to the Trees

Listen to the Trees

Hush…
Do you hear the trees
Blowing in the breeze,
Bowing to the wind?

Shush…
Voices in my mind
Calling out my name
Always sound the same?

Mother o’ mine
Your voice is clear
Only the words I cannot hear,
Blending and bending with the leaves
Rustling and jostling on the trees.

Video and poem ©Denise G Allen, 06 May 2014 07:59


8 Comments

God’s Trees

God's Trees

God’s Trees

God’s Trees

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Symbols of strength and beauty,

God’s trees stand tall and free

Praising their Maker for all to see,

Holding the mysteries of histories,

Living, breathing entities

Supplying oxygen for you and me ~

How magnificent is He who could make a tree!

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Image and poem: ©Denise G Allen, 03 March 2014 02:46


18 Comments

The Battlefield

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Horses screamed and armour clashed,

Warning shouts filled the air while

Mistress moon sailed overhead,

Her face inscrutable, no trace that she

Could hear or see the field below.

My eyes, unfocused, saw by her illumination

Row upon row of soldiers in ghost-like ranks

Marching down the hillside relentlessly,

Implacable, immovable, unbending, unyielding,

Their legs frozen in place for hundreds of years

As they stood in their prime, overseeing the scene

And remembering…

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©Denise G Allen, 18 January 2014 16:18


5 Comments

Shades

Shades - Trees

Shades – Trees

Edited

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Shades

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Shades of green with blue and gold
Block out more than half the sky ~
Magnificent trees, some young, some old,
With leaves that whisper in the breeze.

They sway, they bounce, they flounce,
Coquettish moods become apparent,
But then again they can be fierce
And whip themselves into a fury.

Sheltering birds take fright, take flight
Away from these bad tempered giants
Whose harbour was no longer offered,
Whose comfort was no longer proffered.

However, with the passing of the storm
I looked up at the leaves of varied hue,
At the sky of palest blue, and was
Surprised
To find
A passing bird spit in my eye!

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Image and poetry: ©Denise G Allen, 05 November 2013 08:15