Poetry Corner
SPRING – Times of New Life
by Tom Tollefson
Sun's warm rays
from above glaze
across all
flowers and fields with
morning dew dripping off
golden daffodils and
all other plant life
alike in this
returning light.
Blooming buds shoot up
newly grown green stems
breaking forth from their
soil laden roots
to explode into
pedals of bright
yellows, blues, pinks,
and deep red scarlet colored roses,
each one oozing
with pigments that
captivate your visual stimulation.
Fields alive with
a serene scene
of fresh green grass
next to banks where
fresh clean water softly
swishes over smooth stones
and pebbles clean and pure.
Sounds of a natural
orchestra once again
fill the air with
buzzing bees collecting
nectar and blue birds
tweeting tunes oozing
with sweetness like a
ripened peach
as they come to rest on
flowering branches of
green leaf filled
towering forest trees.
Waking Buds
by Tom Tollefson
Bursting through earthy dirt
bed roots up from these
once tiny seeds,
forming into green stems
Tiny buds peek forth
when earth’s surface
is reached,
opening up
like sleepy eyes
waking to a
a dawning season
among rows of
grass covered floors with a roof of
trees soon to be covered
with thick foliage
blooming from their
young up-and-coming leaves.
No more frozen air or gray skies,
icicles and snowflakes now
replaced by morning dew
dripping off waking buds.
Clouds faded as darkness
drifts away with night,
sun basks these new
born buds with closer rays of light;
chirping birds return to take
freedom to new heights
on their natural flight with
new songs all heard through
the countless blades
dancing in the breeze below.
Petal by petal
each bud breaks out
from their states,
hidden no more,
nature’s best kept secret
exploding forth in bright reds,
yellows, blues, and greens,
more perfect than strokes
of an artist’s brush.
Copyright © 2011 Tom Tollefson
Autumn in the Air
The noon time sun once rose
so high over head,
breaking its light far into
those summer nights.
Many flocked to
coastal shores,
running into oceans’
coastal crashing waves
then take time to lie
back with a book and
squish their toes in
the sand.
Shorts and t-shirts
now scarcer by the day,
replaced by sweatshirts,
jeans, and turtle necks
that hug your skin to
keep treasured body
heat in.
Gone are those
long sun glistening
lazy days.
Bells’ vibrations
once again ring
through school hallways
as teachers and students
return to desks and
opened books.
Leaves’ colors explode
into bright reds and oranges
like a fire light,
then float down
to nature’s grassy bed
below their tree top home.
These trees will soon
lack their leaf filled
fullness,
bare with a hickory
host of bark and branches
open for all to see.
In afternoon’s rise,
crisp smells of
nature’s altering life
wafts its way through
yoru nose with its crisp
pine aroma.
These are the days
of what is yet to come,
barren trees,
icicles dripping off eves,
and bone chilling air
stinging your nose,
all a sure coming sign of
Jack Frost.
Sometimes
Copyright (c) Tom Tollefson 2012
Sometimes,
we lose our sense of touch
and get so wrapped up in
distractions of this crazy life
that we forget what
it’s like to feel
a warm summer
breeze against
a face,
run barefoot across
dewy grass,
or simply savor
every moment of
our success as we
live straight from
the heart.
Sometimes,
we lose ourselves in
convoluted ideas of
expectations and
standards just to
fit in and compromise
our values
to be loved
by society.
Sometimes,
we forget that
honor, effort
and morals are a
sign of success,
not money, prestige,
or power.
Sometimes we fail
the two most important
lessons---
to love is live and
hard work and optimism
triumph over
all obstacles.
Sometimes,
we get so caught up in
our own petty problems
that we forget to
lend our neighbor
a helping hand.
Sometimes,
we need to throw away
bad memories while
carrying on the former
pleasant times as
badges of honor and making
goals of returning to
what once did and will
work for our good again.
Sometimes,
we need to be thankful for
what we have and focus
on the solution instead
of the problem.
Sometimes,
we need to return to who
we really are and refocus
ourselves on goals founded
in joy and morality by
combining positive elements
from both our past and present
to fulfill a balanced life
while staying true to who we are.
Sometimes II
copyright (c) Tom Tollefson 2012
Sometimes you have to
sweat harder and longer
to reach your goals or
reclaim your previous
joy.
Sometimes your obstacles
come twice as large
as before,
but its up to you to
double your efforts,
lower your shoulder and
plow forward without
looking back.
Sometimes you need to
realize what parts of your past
cannot break into the present and
will now remain no
more than part of your
well remembered history.
Sometimes,
we look at our lives and
have to reassess and prioritize
our ture goals and press
the delete button on what
devours our time without
any clear point or purpose.
Sometimes,
even close friends bring
us down with
hurtful works and
influences of dark deeds and
lost morals.
It is then when sometimes
we must distance ourselves
and cast them away.
Rainy Streets
(c) copyright Tom Tollefson 2011
Rain drizzles down
crashing onto asphalt
laden streets as its
wet home.
The sun is gone with
nothing left but menacing
clouds swirling round
reflecting the spirits of
those frowning soaked
souls.
Cars here and there dive
by disrupting puddle
collections,
sending water droplets
dancing in the air.
Some need to get to
their office, others
to school or social dates,
while some just want to
get out for a free existence
anywhere.
For a tiny second,
they’re there,
right in the collection
of puddles,
just flying through
left over rain.
Flying off to chase their
schedules leaving you
and other walkers with
clothes and skin drenched
from water droplets
sent flying by the
traveler’s turning tires.
Winter Wonders
by Tom Tollefson
Copyright (c) Tom Tollefson 2011
Tiny frozen flakes
floating all around,
descending from icy clouds
on high.
Winter’s watery specks land
bonding to form pure white
blankets to cover grass, hills,
and all grounds with no other
color but white to be found.
Our tallest trees,
decked with powdery white specks
sprinkled like glitter on
a Christmas tree even
up to its highest level
of branches and leaves.
Leaves all gone,
branches empty for their
covering long gone,
fallen then covered by
cold blankets of pure white.
Water drips down roves
slowly gliding until
captured in a still jagged motin
off cold eves.
No birds chirp,
no flowers bloom,
and no bugs creep.
Ice and snow now blanket
our stilled snow globe world
as nature pauses to sleep.
This moment does not
move past,
frozen in beauty of these
pure white blankets
and smooth icicles
of a state entranced in rest.
The Little Garden
Clear water trickles
between banks covered
Click here to edit this text
in long blades of grass
interrupted only by its
splish splash
against smooth stones.
Each blade
whistles a low
melodious tone as
rushes of air capture
motion swaying it
to and fro.
Amidst this garden,
a grand vine of
Click here to edit this text (This photo was taken by Jessica Spaulding)
red grapes,
sprigged with droplets of
morning dew,
sprouted its way up
through mounds of
fine soil rich in
minerals from a to z;
giving birth to towering
trees rich with textured
bark and leaves with
dozens of veins intricately
woven in countless intersecting
patterns.
Birds of this garden
fill the air with
strident reverberations,
sweet to any listener’s ear,
for musicians can only
dream of producing such
rhythmic tones with
nature and ease of these.
Tweet, tweet, twit, twit
birds sing cheerfully
a song of Thanksgiving
for their ideal world.
Not a single
human body lies within
these vast borders stretching
beyond distant horizons and
searing sands of time.
Many have searched
vast universes over to
find a grand vine among
its glorious shine;
but their efforts fall short,
landing them among our
innumerable surrounding stars.
Those fortunate few
who enter, must be at
peace of mind and leave
their skeletal prisons
and poisoned minds behind.
Copyright (c) Tom Tollefson 2010
Red-colored rims attached
to lower square edges of
white boards gradually
sculpted into circular curvatures
of noble construction
mounted upon
a long strong pole,
only a few inches wide,
yet, unrelenting to constant
forces of
human determination in
form of aerial grabs,
thrusting an orange ball
through the circular rim
before returning to
level ground.
Four of these structures
graced this park with
their presence directly
across from one another
in rectangular order,
separated only
by an expanse of asphalt
with white lines painted
in various parallel,
circular, and
intersecting patterns
along a dark green surface.
As I look from one corner
to another,
countless memories of
friendships, fierce efforts, and
astounding plays
flood my mind.
It was on this patch
of asphalt where
I enjoyed the freedom
of all my days and found
my place in our world
through wins and losses.
What comes of this Unity
© Copyright Tom Tollefson 2010
“I do,” they say with
an interlocked gaze,
sealed with a
soul connecting
kiss.
Will it be forever
or just for a day?
Will they be true
and sacrifice all that
stands in their way
or stumble and
fall in a
selfish haze?
Flowers and candy
of their puppy love stage
fades and turn to gray as
time passes and voices
grow louder while their
previously unchallenged road
breaks off in
two directions,
engulfed in mist.
One road begins with exasperated sights,
sleepless separate nights
and hearts with no spirit
to pull up their sleeves
and scrub off the dirt.
This cold and pit filled
road’s destination leads
to a
divided bed,
stained by crying, lying, bruises,
and
intimate penetration
of outsiders.
The other road is plagued by thorns
of jealousy,
tempting easy paths that go awry,
and lack of rest.
This road will lead their united hearts to disintegrate every obstacle
in their way
while living on a dime a day,
as their resolute spirits
shine,
white lights upon all
extruding forces
while basking in their promise
upon circular
rings.