whispering pines

the dark prairie storm

swept across the open grassy fields.

birds fly into a trees leafy, branchy shelter;

the wall of soft steady rains fall

and washes the whispering pines

down to the slow crawling vines.

in the far off opposite sided distance

dressed in mountain silhouettes,

the sun peaks for the days final bow;

gifting in a rainbow, entwined in raindrops.

the lake is a mirror,

endless heavens kissing a bountiful ground

and the ground griping the heavenly soaked sky.

the dark prairie storm

swept across the open grassy fields.

the birds fly into a trees leafy, branchy shelter;

the wall of soft steady rains fall

and washes the whispering pines.

c.2016 bgw

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in the magnificent moonlight

the oil lamp burns,

casting a solitaire shadow on the wall.

dancing and flickering,

the flame illuminates through the white wine filled glass;

looking like tiny little stars.

the South Dakota wheatfields sway;

the cool harvest breeze

infuses the open sky.

but here,

in this cozy prairie cabin,

the quills ink left these words,

scribbled

and slow to dry on paper.

these words are always

about a dream that still lives –

deep and hidden;

casted aside – but never forgotten –

but always haunts.

when i wake

i have seen you;

when i sleep –

i have been with you.

under this moonlight,

and under these stars that know;

only told in stars that fall.

c.  2016  bgw