Hocking Hills of Ohio | pictured words

October 25, 2018

Hocking Hills Autumn 2018, 5-7-5 Water

Photo by Keith R. Good

I prefer water
Falling, or babbling in brooks,
To crashing on shore.

October 24, 2018

A Creator’s Palette (Sonnet to The Artist)

Reflections of autumn’s trees on Rose Lake in Ohio’s Hocking Hills region. Photo credit: Keith R. Good

Describing “yellow” leaves in fall, for me,
Does not at all depict their cheerful gleam
As sunlight spills as liquid through the trees,
And they themselves could light the day, it seems.

So also “orange” can’t describe the bliss
That autumn’s gorgeous vista just compels.
And though I can’t rename it, I know this:
Fall’s celebrated color casts its spells.

My favored autumn shades though are the reds:
From rosy blush to crimson, fire-and-iced.
They fairly flaunt and flame as they turn heads.
There’s no way common “red” would have sufficed.

How can we label paints and pens of God
That leave us reverential, praise-filled, awed ?

FOR POETIC BLOOMINGS AUTUMNAL POEM-A-DAY CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE, 2018, DAY 11: CRIMSON

May 18, 2018

RETURN TO THE HILLS (Sonnet for My Keith, and Our Little Blue Cabin in Ohio’s Hocking Hills)

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How many years have you and I come here
To seek a respite from demands of time?
We listen long as birdsongs echo clear,
From porch swing’s nest, to hills we dare to climb.

We had to leave behind our getaway,
As pressures of life’s urgencies took charge.
This season rendered cabin dreams “someday,”
But pressing needs no longer loom so large.

We’re homebodies (both you and I), and this,
Our quiet cabin nestled in the pines,
Feels so like coming home, it’s simply bliss –
This space where life and harmony align.

I’ve seen these hills with no one else but you.
There’s none with whom I’d rather share this view.

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