Dog Days
The heat rises, waving off the pavement,
Smelling brown and dusty.
The grass, stripped of its soft scent,
Blades dry and sharp underfoot.
Hounds sigh, lazy eyes trace your steps,
But they do not rise to play.
Languid cats seek cool shadows on the pavement,
Ignoring insects that creep past closed eyes.
Dragonflies skate on stagnant waters,
Bees kiss the fading blooms.
The trees breathe, humming with cicadas’ buzz,
Leaves whisper hints of colour—
Fall is coming.
February
February a lover beguiling,
Promising much ever smiling.
In the morning, he paints a scene so fair,
Of sunshine, green, and blossoms rare,
But as the day to night does yield,
In evening's grasp, he unleashes his ire,
of icy wind, sleet, and treacherous desire.
Winter Moon
Behind the pines, the winter moon's pristine light,
Guides souls along the path through the cold, quiet night.
Emerald, rose, and sapphire, cascading in rhythmic flow,
Beneath the deep blue dome where stars softly glow.
They ripple and dance in harmony
to accompany the journey's melody.
Footprints drum the snow, a gentle sound,
Each step is a testament to the travelers' journey profound.
Whispered mist of a winter creature's flight
Blend with nature's chorus in the pre-dawn light.
On this frozen night, hues crystalline and bright,
A painted scene crafted by a hand divine,
where dreams and reality unite.
November
The month between the seasons,
When autumn colours give way
to the harsh monochrome of a winter’s day.
When warm breezes become the bitter bite of cold
The month to mourn the dead, their sad tales told.
The month when geese take wing to fly
In regimental formation,
Behind the clouds and across the moonlit sky.
Their mournful farewells bring forth the frost and snow,
The sound in the windswept darkness of winter coming
and the death below.
Homecoming
In the waning days of last season's flight,
leaves, tumbled down brown and frail, in fading light.
Where rain clouds rolled thunder, lightning, and hail,
Now fair-weathered they drift a gentle sail.
Across deep blue skies, geese call out - I am home.
Returned to you from where I did roam.
Welcome me back to the place I am known.
Lovers
He chased her through the pines; he danced for her.
He called to her with black wings beating and eyes flashing.
They flew through the pines to find a roost amongst them
and stayed until the snow had left the plains below.
Dedication
In memories' realm, your story dwells,
Where time's grip fades and memory swells,
As long as lives hold you dear,
Your tale transcends, forever clear.
When words are woven, your spirit ignites,
In verses penned, eternal heights,
Within the ink, your essence unfurls,
A legacy etched, beyond worldly twirls.
Forever etched in history's embrace,
You live on, an immortal trace.
For as long as remembrance holds true,
Your story endures, forever new.
The Funeral by The Silver Birch
At the foot of a slender silver birch tree, a Magpie lay stiff and still amongst the stubble of the recently cut corn; one black wing feather fluttered in the morning breeze.
Perched on the fence post above, its companion bent her head low for a better look, then hopped down beside him. She bobbed her head, clucking at him and gently pecked his black and white head, trying to rouse him—but he would not stir.
After a few minutes, she understood her loss. She tipped her head back and wept with loud, mournful whoops and bitter cackles. Her lamentations brought a gathering of her clan, who settled on the fence and in the branches of the silver birch tree.
The funeral began with a solemn dance around their fallen brethren; they pecked and chattered, urging him to rise up, their sad efforts lasting twenty minutes. The service concluded in silence as the birds quieted and rested in reflection before each mourner, one by one, took flight.
The Buffalo Race* - A Story
When the world was very young, all the creatures in the world were equal. Everyone could understand one another as they all spoke the same language. No one wore special colours or clan markings; all lived in peace, and no creature ate another.
In those days, it was believed that if an animal were to eat another creature, it would gain strength from the flesh of that creature, and it would be above all others.
As it goes, that night follows day, as animals are animals and people are people; eventually, someone wants to rule over everyone else.
The biggest animal on the Great Plains was the Buffalo. He thought of himself as handsome and strong, and by rights, he should be able to eat other creatures and rule over everyone else.
Man, of course, also wanted to rule the world. He believed he was the smartest of all the animals; therefore, he should rule and have the right to hunt others.
To resolve the issue, the wise owl proposed that there should be a race, and the winner would govern the world. The Buffalo was very sure he would win, so he agreed. He could run forever through rain and snow, through the winter’s cold and summer’s heat.
The Man knew he could not win a race with the Buffalo; Man had only two legs. He could not run as fast or as far as the Buffalo. Nor could he run through the summer’s heat or the cold winter snow like the Buffalo. Still, Man wanted to rule the world, so he demanded the right to choose a champion to run the race.
The owl agreed that, to be fair, Man could choose a champion to run the race for him if the Buffalo would agree. Man asked the birds to be his champion. Now, the Buffalo laughed at this. He was sure the birds were too feeble to beat him, so he agreed.
After much consultation, the birds decided on three champions, each to run a portion of the race. They chose the swift Hummingbird, the mighty Hawk, and the clever Magpie to represent Man in the race.
The owl decided that the race would start at the Rocky Mountains in the west and finish at the Great Lake in the east. The signal to start the race would be a thunderclap.
All the creatures took paint and marked themselves for the great race. The animals chose their favourite. Some wanted the Buffalo to win; others wanted Man.
The sky darkened, and lightning flashed; a thundercloud rolled down from the mountainside. With a mighty burst of light and sound, the race began.
The Hummingbird took an early lead, but his tiny wings beat so quickly that he tired too soon and dropped to the earth, where he was trampled under the feet of the great Buffalo.
As the animals neared the middle of the Great Plains, the powerful and steady Buffalo took the lead. The mighty Hawk swept in from high above and gained on the Buffalo, but as they neared the finish, a tremendous icy wind blew in from the Great Lake, and the Hawk was blown far away from the finish. It seemed certain the Buffalo would become the chief of all the creatures in the world.
Suddenly, from behind, the Magpie flew past the thundering Buffalo and reached the shore of the Great Lake to win the race. The Magpie and her clan sat high in a tree and waited for the Buffalo and all the other creatures.
As the representative of Man and the winner of this race, the Magpie declared that her clan could never be eaten. The wise owl proclaimed this was right and fair, and all the animals agreed.
In the dusty clouds of the race, no one had noticed that the clever Magpie had ridden on the back of the Buffalo for the entire race, only to swoop ahead at the very last minute to win.
All the animals went their separate ways, but the colours and the markings they had painted on themselves for the race remain to this day.
The Buffalo returned to the plains to eat grass, and Man became the ruler of the world and a great hunter.
As for the Magpies, they feast forever on the remains of every hunt.
( *Adapted from a tale told by the first people of the plains)