Clouds hover above the misty sandstone bluff;
the late April drizzle shivers
cold lonesome rain outside my paned window.
I curl my arms around me holding the warm inside
as foggy mists encase our weathered beaten red barn.
Remnants of winter patched in springtime mud,
slowly vanish under a shuddering and pushing wind.
A rancher’s horses neigh their wild cry
to the rhythms of a wildflower wind.
Wandering by curled barbed wire, confined under wide open skies,
their carefree spirit blends with mine, setting no path, no direction.
I listen with careful abandon to my long lost heart;
a scattering of indifference I no longer wonder about.
Your cowboy heart, weathered and restless
as the saddle that carries you through pinion and silver sage
to the mountains where solitude cries its own anguish.
Mine, stoic like silver green sagebrush,
has become wiser, lovelier,
as life pulls me back and I take a deep breath.
A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sailaway from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” ~ Mark Twain
The poetry of ineptitude.
Blurring the lines between poetry and prose
by Lize Bard
Official Blog of the English Tea Store
Serving a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry book reviews to feed poets' and poetry lovers' souls.