Walk in the Fall 2015-125

It is almost fall and I am ready to take a walk in the fall, since I do remember how wonderful it can be. I miss that, but do not miss the precursor to winter that fall brings; SNOW. I can remember one more thing; the smell of coalsmoke in the air from burning coal in furnaces, to heat the homes so long ago…

 

Walk in the Fall   2015-125

 

I walked through the blanket of fall flowers

The smell of wood smoke in the air.

 

The pumpkins were being carved by the little ones

And cider was being sold by the road

 

Leaves were falling, turned brown from green,

The trees becoming stark and black

 

The squirrels were storing their acorn nuts,

Preparing for the long winter nights

 

A football game to be looked at later

With popcorn or pretzels and beer

Maybe a telephone call to a son far away                                                                                       To say hello, on a fall splendid day

Meanwhile, high above, geese flew south, in formation

They’re honking a rebounding sound of excitement

 

Far off, cornstalks stood as pillars in the field

Below the ominous grey and rolling clouds

 

Another change of another year, before winter

As I walked through the field of wild flowers.

 

Den Betts

Strawberry Lane 2015-108

We lived near a county park called Strawberry Lane Metro Parks, in the Cleveland area, where we visited so many times. It, then, was a carefree time, with thoughts of nature, the good life without many cares, and just an enjoyment of life then. No TV with horror stories told, as today, and a different kind of life at that time. Summer time and the living was easy, summer time and the living was swell………..

Strawberry Lane 2015-108

A honking Canadian goose glided toward the pond,

Feet extended for a landing on a fall afternoon.

One among many mixes with assorted fowl,

Honking and quacking in a cacophony of sound.

 

Parasails of leaves flutter to the cool still water,

Landing, then floating in dizzy circles.

A mat of soggy ones clumped and ringing the shore,

Before slowly sinking to the pond bottom forevermore.

 

On the far bank, a small child stood in the mud,

Flinging pebbles, making ripples, laughing with glee,

Her father stood nearby, watching over with a smile.

Remembering a similar experience in life.

 

Down further, a man with a remote guided speedboat,

Fiddled with controls, steering it this way and that.

As a son squatted down, waiting his turn to play,

Wondering just whose gift it was last Christmas day.

 

Lovers hand in hand, walking the nearby trail,

Deep in thought of romance and exuberance of living.

Both wishing for a chosen future day to arrive,

To begin a lifetime of togetherness and caring.

 

Activity of all kinds, a blending a joining,

Man and nature sharing both time and space,

A peaceful setting, so natural and right,

Nature being used as it should be.

 

Den Betts

Leaf 2015-105

The BettsDen.com

 

I had to search for a “summer” poem that I have written. Well, more like a “spring” one at this junction of time in July. Anyhow, I wrote this poem about a leaf, and what part it played in the life of a tree, or a least its role in the process of life for the tree. A small part of a large part, but an extremely important part of a living tree.

 

NOTE: I will stop sending blog posts to/via Facebook after this poem about a Leaf. If anyone wants to follow my blogs, please do so by going to TheBettsDen.com. I do not know how long this will occur, but it is occurring now.  

                             Leaf 2015-105

The lightest and smallest part,

Of the mighty oak,

A factory turning light to life,

Helping to create growth.

So small a part yet so big a part,

For the existence of a living tree.

All working together to produce,

In concert with an overall plan.

Nutrients for the bulk, the trunk,

The roots, stretching to grasp fluid.

Till a time of rest, then discarded,

To decompose in a furtherance of life.

Den Betts

Fog 2015-84

From: TheBettsDen.com

I was looking out my bedroom window one morning and could not see the trees at the rear of our property because of the fog. I squinted and tried, but the fog was too dense. It was like I was in a cloud looking down at my patio and the bricks were vague forms, hard to see and make out. It was like, when I was driving on top of the Ligonier mountain of Pa. and my wife was looking out an open window to see where the line was at the side of the road. It was a scary trip for about two miles.

          Fog   2015-84

Suspended particles

of wetness

 

Clinging to all

hanging in the air

 

Breath leaving

to join the fray

 

Sight diminished

Smells enhanced

 

A cloud that comes to earth

to envelope all.

Den Betts

 

Flowers 2015-82

From: TheBettsDen.com

Spring is still here as of the end of May 2015 and things are still sprouting and flowers are popping up to show their beauty. Ideas come to mind as to what also arrives, sometimes unwittingly (WEEDS), but also part of life in its struggle of existence.

Flowers 2015-82

Bulbs send up shoots through the soil

to burst forth and bless the sky.

Hopes and aspirations that come to pass

Linger on for awhile, before they die.

 

Bees that fly and kiss the nectar

Make honey for continued life.

Ideas and dreams that once were so true

Never make it past the trials and strife.

 

As the flower blossoms and takes its shape

And becomes all as it shall may.

So goes life, with its ups and downs

To whatever existence that happens, day to day.

 

Flower petals fall to the ground

Blown away in the wind.

Dreams and wishes borne to the mind

Disappear as if by a whim.

Den Betts

Crows 2015-80

In the country we have crows, hawks, and buzzards living together with those of nature, but in the city, crows rule in the sky, or so it seems, along with other creatures of wildlife, of course. It was, well, somewhat unique to observe the crows when we lived in the urban jungle of the city, but again, somewhat common place here in the country……

Crows     2015-80

A “caw” then another “caw”

from above somewhere, not placed.

Peering above, I look for the source,

of the sound known from childhood.

Remembered now on a regular basis

 

A fleeting shadow on the ground,

signals the presence of the crow

flapping wings so laboriously

towards the tree in back of house.

 

The glance above in pin oak splendor

shows a sight not seen before.

A “crows nest” high in boughs

built different than the squirrels;

home for more of the black winged

ones, to continue its species.

 

A mate’s call further away, high in

sky, flying, dipping, trying to get

away from wrens attacking with swoops,

protecting their own kind.

 

The nature of things in an urban setting

so different than a cornfield far away,

A name, Charley, the crow for him and

perhaps Celeste for her,  why not, maybe so.

“C and C” easy to remember, but not tell apart.

 

Den Betts

Worms 2015-78

How many worms have I fed to the fish in the pond nearby? Too many, I say! We take these “creatures” for granted, but they are out there, and not menaces like some things that fly and take blood at night. My daughter used to harvest them for her garden, I think, and had bunches of them in a tray of some sorts. Not something my wife would like to know or appreciate. Perhaps there should be more things like worms instead of other things that we have around us………

Worms  2015-78

A slimy, oozy thing of nature,

Found most anywhere

It stretches and recoils

Moving in the creature’s lair.

 

From minute small to a

Brazilian rope of mass

It struggles for survival

Amidst a world of mud and grass.

 

Used as bait to catch a fish

And even eaten by some; I hear

Seen after a rain on a walk

Trying to breath the air.

 

Eating dirt in its journey

To go from here to there

Shunning light, coming at night

Making it seldom seen, so rare.

 

A benefit to man, not known by all

It helps the soil in every way

But, looked by some with distaste

As a slim, slimy thing, each day.

 

Its not bad and doesn’t bite,

Will not hurt a soul I daresay

As per this, perhaps we should—

Declare a National Worm Day.

 

Den Betts