Pearls By
John Mitchell
And what I sought,
you were,
a few times;
as green islands
are glimpsed
from a schooner.
Like seafaring friends
we greeted those moments--
grabbed at them--
hugging--
joy in our eyes.
Trices of worth!
made of white sand;
lapped with
warm sea waves.
But, we were
Polynesians
finding rare pearls,
many empty dives
came between.
John Mitchell
jacatols1@hotmail.com
John is one of the founding members of Friends of Art Manchester and is an excellent photographer. You can see some of his work on this site.
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November again
the trail is blanketed with leaves
as I follow the dog around the pond
dull yellows and browns
no longer the brilliant reds
like the burning bush by our house
the acorns have finally finished dropping
on the wooden deck
startling me with their loud noise
the mums are withering
the garden bare
a few herbs hanging on
to grow again in spring
the first snow was early this year
and melted quickly
the nights are frosty
and we cuddle under a warm quilt
in the evening I take out
yarn and knitting needles
another pair of mittens
for a daughter far away
reminding me of mother
and her granny squares
my weekly phone calls
now with my children
as hers used to be with me
seasons change
each with its own beauty
the earth rests, then renews
November again
©Linda H. Feinberg
I wrote this one many years ago. We no longer have a dog,
but I still walk around the pond and still love the changing of the seasons. I
have more poems on my
personal blog. Select the category “poems” to
filter it. I am one of the founding members of this group and its treasurer. I have been writing poems for over 30 years, but my books are currently out of print.
lhfeinberg@yahoo.com