by Handy Pockets

Here we,
tend thee
the seed.
This tree
shall grow,
you'll see.

by Handy Pockets

Poetry
A happy dance
The willow has us in its trance
Mud oozing through our toes
Peace in silence
Joy filled sunshine
Arm is raised 
Growth is praised
No one has a clue
Seems I have no shoes
The willow has us in its trance
A happy dance

by Handy Pockets

I don’t mind if you have a preconceived notion
I’m not sure you understand the devotion
You plant your seeds without emotion
You might begin to get a notion
If you did not throw the seeds in commotion
Maybe a magic growing potion?
Would show you our care and emotion
With story and poems we show our devotion.

by Handy Pockets

 'honored performance at the Creative Performance Contest, Festival of Fun day 204'

Little Willow seed, 
All around you
Warm breeze
Dust on the sunbeam
Like Fairytale dust 
Swirling, twirling, 
glittering in the sunshine
Gentle noise of bugs 
and singing blades of grass
And the hand that protects 
Little Willow seed.

by Handy Pockets

Your heart is like the seed who sprouts a dream.
With care and rhyme the deeds will show es.steem.

How sweet a song to show our friends the way.
A sprout so new you glow a shade of gray.

Who says we can't see feet who dance in fun.
A tale of growth so true our sprout was spun.

I wrote this verse to shout the seeds new song.
To prove the seed has care that bind so strong.

Angurvadal

The Bread They Made

They put the loaf into the oven
Knowing what should happen.

Then they sit down to talk,
Some even choose to take a walk.

In their leisure they forget
What it really takes to make a bread.

Some will totally lose track,
While the bread sits on a rack.

Slowly the loaf shall rise-
A result of no surprise!

But to those who sit and wait
Their bread will lose all taste.

Having turned to a darkened loaf that will die and fade.

by Handy Pockets

One by one, new players arrive 
Each with a story of how they survive 
Some will prove bold 
and win Heads of gold 
Others will search out there new role. 
I hope not a troll. 
You raise creatures for battle 
They are not your chattel 
They fight bold and true 
They only wish to protect you. 

Day 181

Keith Moon presented me with this poem that he wrote and recited for the Willow seed, on the night Pamplemousse and Keith joined me to care for the seeds.

Willow's Poem
With watchful waters offered here
Beside the path of Willow's ghost
Three faithful friends are drawing near
To show what love they value most.
In humid nights, on endless days,
In lively, palpitating tones,
We grant you nourishment from rays
And settled, long forgotten bones.
We trust your growth will rapid be
With care from your devoted three. 

Day 182

2nd willow poem
Beside the waters of the lake
We friends do gather now to share
And courage from each other take
In Marind’s sunlit summer air.
In crystal waters now we send
The willow’s nourishment today
And knowing that the coming wind
May bear our efforts far away.
Still fully do we give to you
Our labor, care, and patience true.

Day 183

Rendril wrote this poem for the Willow 
Willow's Poem
Young willow rejoice
For you have but a simple choice
Will you grow strong with mighty bough
That is what we ask you now
I hope your path is plain to follow
That with our help you will flourish tomorrow 

From Keith

 
Willow poem (3rd, I think)
No matter how I concentrate
I scarce can seem to find the ways
To earn an unencumbered fate
Below the morning’s warming rays.
In dissolution I am found
To want repair, and recognize
That though I focus on the ground
A wayward cast has seized my eyes.
And while I lean to feel the breeze
My spirit longs for summer’s ease. 

Day 199

by Handy Pockets

I learned the lesson well.
Of poetry I will tell.

It should be normal poetry
When I tell it to the seed.

In the future we will see
A tree of terminology 

You will notice a cooling breeze
From the darkness of the leaves.

Just before I turn to fade.
I will enjoy the Willow’s shade.

Day 200

Rendril Revant

nestled in a cover of rushes
lies a willow that often blushes
so many lovers pass with glee
I think I'll call it the kissing tree.

Day 201

by Handy Pockets

I walk the path, to water the seeds alone,
As seedlings here, your life has truly shone.

It is nice to have the help of a good friend.
My hope, please, not beginning of a trend.

The tending of the seeds has shown.
That I can manage on my own.

All the seeds have come alive
Their tend and care is my only drive

Day 202

Another willow poem

Keith Moon


A simple gift of any size
Redounds to those whose gift is given;
Simplicity of tone belies
The grief from whom a sin be shriven.
For while we smile beneath the sky
The hours trudge on, still growing late.
Though now we live, we someday die
Alike embraced by silent fate.

Day 204

by Handy Pockets

As we care for you in the beauty spot.
It is my wish you forget- me- not.

 What do we know of this lovers knot?
Please know to neglect I cannot.
This poem is differntly my weak spot.

Day 209

.Pamplemousse. 
When will you learn, myself, to be 
a dying leaf on a living tree? 
Budding, swelling, growing strong, 
Wearing green, but not for long, 
Drawing sustenance from air, 
That other leaves, and you not there, 
May bud, and at the autumn's call 
Wearing russet, ready to fall? 
Has not this trunk a deed to do 
Unguessed by small and tremulous you? 
Shall not these branches in the end 
To wisdom and the truth ascend? 
And the great lightning plunging by 
Look sidewise with a golden eye 
To glimpse a tree so tall and proud 
It sheds its leaves upon a cloud? 

Here, I think, is the heart's grief: 
The tree, no mightier than the leaf, 
Makes firm its root and spreads it crown 
And stands; but in the end comes down. 
That airy top no boy could climb 
Is trodden in a little time 
By cattle on their way to drink. 
The fluttering thoughts a leaf can think, 
That hears the wind and waits its turn, 
Have taught it all a tree can learn. 
Time can make soft that iron wood. 
The tallest trunk that ever stood, 
In time, without a dream to keep, 
Crawls in beside the root to sleep. 


Edna St Vincent Millay 

Madalina Fitzroy

The Lake 

Water lilies load all over
The blue lake amid the woods,
That imparts, while in white circles
Startling, to a boat its moods.

And along the strands I'm passing
Listening, waiting, in unrest,
That she from the reeds may issue
And fall, gently, on my breast;

That we may jump in the little
Boat, while water's voices whelm
All our feelings; that enchanted
I may drop my oars and helm;

That all charmed we may be floating
While moon's kindly light surrounds
Us, winds cause the reeds to rustle
And the waving water sounds.

But she does not come; abandoned,
Vainly I endure and sigh
Lonely, as the water lilies
On the blue lake ever lie.

Mihai Eminescu was a late Romantic poet, novelist and journalist, often regarded as the most famous and influential Romanian poet. Famous works include Luceafarul ("Evening Star"), Oda în metru antic (Ode in ancient meter), and the five Letters (Epistles/Satires). In his poems he frequently used metaphysical, mythological and historical subjects.(January 15, 1850 – June 15, 1889)

Day 215

  Keith Moon  

willow poem
To find a cause to celebrate
Is water singing in the wind;
As vapor’s tears precipitate
We tip a can and call you friend.
And in this light we persevere,
With ink, and quill, and foot, and hand
Through web of trust, with spirit clear
To raise you leaping from the land.
Complacent sun and plains of blue
Now lounge about us, overhead,
As river’s ripple flows to you,
Whose glory rises from our dead. 

Day 216

Keith Moon  

Willow poem
On frozen rivulet I write
Of madness just begun;
A drop in Time we drink tonight
While you embrace the sun.
The water leaps and turns its face
In chaos side to side
As we our tinted memories chase:
Our mortal ends defied.
If living death and raw despair
Have meaning left to give,
Then we shall taste the summer air
That you, our friend, shall live.

Day 217

Keith Moon 

My Willow sonnet
If in the wake of tears the moonrise comes,
Then which lost stars greet palpitating gloom?
Does failure meet low trumpets or sad drums?
What smiles will flash upon the edge of doom?
I beg a grain of peace, a drachm of calm,
An anxious, furtive ointment for the brain
Obsessed with strife, impatient for the balm
That bites the skin, whose potency is pain.
For those who drink their fill of sugared blood
May choke upon gray wisdom in the night,
And those whose fevered rhythms foam and flood
Cannot in rhyming fetters learn to write.
I strain my lips to sip the trickled verse:
The poet’s draught and mournful writer’s curse. 

Day 218

Keith Moon  

Willow poem
The sultry summer sky in disarray
Regards as patchwork shadows creep below;
With mischief does the zephyr curl away
To fields no mortal eye can ever know.
In forest-filtered light the footsteps die
Which over baking plain did rustle forth;
The frowning, spotted toadstool ponders why
The sullen Maple tree knows not its worth.
On snapping trail our passage finds its end
Beside the dancing brook the glaciers send

Day 219

by Handy Pockets

As we tend the seeds in all their glory
We find there is another story
Here we are, with a question
Will you hear our confession?
With old rusty water cans
And holding hands
Our hearts expand to hear the voice
all who come here by they own choice
Shall we whisper this under oath?
That we praise your new found growth.

Day 221

Story and Poem recited by Guybrush Threepwood

A story.
Once upon a time there was an ant and a grasshopper.
The any scurried around collecting as much food as he could to store for the winter to survive.
The grasshopper spent all summer bugging the ant and asking him to play with him.
When winter came the grasshopper didn't have food enough to survive, and the ant had plenty.The grasshopper asked for some food, but the ant told him, "You have not worked and messed around all summer, and now you shall pay the consequences."
So the grasshopper ate the ant and stole his food.

Shell Silverstein.

 William Tell, William Tell.
 Grab an arrow, grip it well.
 There's the apple, aim for the middle.
 Oops, you only missed by a little.

Day 222

Keith Moon

Willow poem for the one not here.


The sawdust of a wasted day
Compacts in clods beneath my shoe.
All eloquence while you’re away
Seems crickets’ babble without you.
If I can sing in notes of gold
And mesmerize the marble sky,
It’s meaningless if I grow old
And do not hear your azure sigh.
For I will master vines of pain
Entwined in barbs all ‘round my ear
If I can breathe your kiss again
And feel your silence smiling near.

Day 224

Keith Moon
 
Willow Poem
Your smile beneath the fading light
Is lilac deliquescence pure;
Your shadow weeps in hematite
The skulking sunset to abjure.
Although your grassy coronet
Was never weaved to snare the days,
Your amber-haloed silhouette
Within the creeping darkness stays.
Inside my mind I clasp your face
And hug your memory at night;
I draw your scent to claim the place
Where you will blossom, waking bright. 

Day 225

Keith Moon 
willow sonnet #2

To wade in dappled shadows of the grass
And cross the Bell of Marind once or twice
The desert vizier’s errand comes to pass
With measured words and water as its price.
If dusty paths of wisdom stain our shoes,
Engraving on us sun-drenched faces’ lines,
Perhaps it is our happiness to lose
The smoky strands of pain as day declines.
Inside the journey’s compass pilgrims come
From earth’s erupted saplings swaying by
The rushing road and river’s splashing drum
Remarking moments under placid sky.
To sundry seedlings we will speak and laugh,
Our voices hissing motes of corn and chaff. 

Day 226

Poem for the Willow

Keith Moon
Willow sonnet (third, I think)

While stippled moments furl and steal away
As furtive as the ripples in a tarn
Disturbed by feather’s tumble, twilight gray
Will clothe the sky in evening’s tattered yarn.
Remembering a silky, solemn pledge,
We join our hands atop our stalwart can
To amble faithfully at autumn’s edge
And swing our stormy hearts in nature’s plan.
In staring down the glass we may recall
A sugar-coated scrap of lifetimes gone,
And though we have the fortitude to fall,
We find our glimmered joy at whirling dawn.
Who cannot stall the sinking sands of Time
With fraying thoughts entangles them in rhyme.

Day 228

Keith Moon 

Snippets from the Rubaiyat
O come with old Khayyam and leave the wise
To talk. One thing is certain: that life flies.
One thing is certain, and the rest is lies:
The flower that once has blown forever dies.

I also like this stanza, which I read for the Willow last night after you'd gone:

The moving finger writes, and having writ
Moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit
Can lure it back to cancel half a line
Nor all your tears wash out one word of it.

Omar Khayyam was - I want to say an astronomer, a poet, and a tent-maker. Seems a 

lot of the Classical Arabs were poets. His blunt, atheistic, mildly "carpe diem" 

philosophy resounds through the ages, and recalls the Roman poet Horace (of "carpe 

diem" fame).

Day 231

by Handy Pockets

As we tend the seeds in all their glory
We find there is another story
Here we are, with a question
Will you hear our confession?
With old rusty water cans
And holding hands
Our hearts expand to hear the voice
all who come here by they own choice
Shall we whisper this under oath?
That we praise your new found growth.

Day 232

A Paslm of Life

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life if but an empty dream
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
 Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting.
And our hears, though stout & brave. 
Still, like muffled drums, are beating 
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the World’s broad field of battle, 
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife.
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act--act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God overheard!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our live sublime,
And,, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing.
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait,

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Day 239

 Poem by Awiiya
 Tonight the lake stands atark
 With the little island its beauty mark
 The reeds its hair
 Flowing green and fair
 The birds make the mouth
 Their cries ever so loud
 The people go by and sigh
 Remarking how her beauty abides
 But the secret of this lake,
 The heart that none shall take,
 Is you, little Willow sprout.
 And of that, none doubt.

Day 241

by Awiiya

 There are nights, when things do not quite feel alright.
 The water is off, and does not drip down
 Our hearts beat slow, and sometimes there is even a frown.
 Not enough sleep, the day was awful
 At the end of the day, our brains are filled with null
 Through all this, we pick up our bodies
 We move our legs, our arms, fill the needs
 Of the seeds we call dear. In return, one day
 When our arms will not lift, and our feet will not pay
 They will turn to us, our seeds, and give us back
 What was given to them: blind, and loving, in a tightly wound pack.

Day 242

by Handy Pockets

 I wrote this poem after seeing 
 Phantom Orchid, who we missed seeing 
 for a long time. 

 There she was, our fellow planner
 She, herself, has been off the scanner
 Please join us again for the seeds so true
 You are but just one of us so few
 Who show our seeds such grace and manner.

Day 243

by Handy Pockets

We tend the seeds here everynight.
Sun shines to us in every light.
No matter the prevailing winds.
Our seeds know how to wrap and twined.
Our emotions glowing ever bright.

Friends we see here only every fortnight.
They see what eyes see; true delight.
Against the ones who might be blind.
We tend the seeds here everynight.

When standing together in their sight.
Inviting gold and shining armor of knights.
And when our friendships glue and bind.
We know the stories and poems did wind.
Together we stand here to share our delight.
We tend the seeds here everynight.

Day 244

 Poem by Awiiya

 There is a heart, felt deep inside.
 It beats loud and true, in which we all confide.
 There are sights gruesome, and people mean
 Things better left unsaid, and places unseen.
 But the tragedy of this short life is that we cannot choose
 What to see, and where to go, whether it be a palace or a noose
 Our fates are horribly intertangled with the lowest of the low.
 And when all is said and done, our eyes with pain will glow.
 So in times when things are ugly, and the scenery is grim
 takes a breath in
 Take consolance in the fact that there is more than awful whims
 Things get better, things go up, and we live.

Day 245

poem by Awiiya

 A silent night, a peaceful sight
 We sang songs, now we tell poems not long
 People sometimes accompany, but we are our own company
 Things are easy, we are light and the toughness measley
 Our brains think slower, my past in words I show her.
 The waterings, the waterings, are a thing of wonder.

Day 246

  poem by Handy Pockets

 The first of our seed is the Oak.
 We do not hide behind the Smoke.
 One of our seeds is the Maple.
 The story's and poems for all a staple.
 One of our seeds is the willow
 Come and listen upon your pillow.
 One of our seeds is a Spruce.
 We do not need a truce.
 For the seeds are our needs and feeling

Day 248

  by Tarquinus

 This is so much as I am:
 A scalloped coarse revenant
 Powder collapsed from smokeless fire.
 This is so much as I was:
 Imbecile vagrant, fever's fool
 Waltzing tip-toe with a phantom
 As faceless as the sky.
 This is so much as I shall be:
 Hermetic wastrel of hours
 Awash in spectral radiance
 Rootless as moonbeams
 Tarnished urn of crumpled words
 Reflection of light unseen.

Day 249

It is a path like no other.
With cool stones to refresh the feet.
It invites and protects all who venture here

Day 250

poem by Priestess Orchid

Catkin Blessings

Catkin blessings sow longing in the air
Plumes of burgeoning majesty, a truly illustrious snare
From glen to glen, tangoing gallantly in the wind
Two-stepping with moon ray sparkles, a twirl and a spin
A soft breath, a waltz into the garden of peculiarities
Rhizomatous dreams ensnaring, a bed of hilarity
Cold hearts melt, veneer stripped from secrets left untold
By a humble gardener named Kets - loving, caring and bold. 

Day 252 Year 4

by Jester

There sits a willow seed
Watching people pass by
From its seat among the reeds
It has seen many days die
And as it watches the passing of time,
surely it must outgrow this rhyme

Day 253 Year 4

Keith Moon
Willow poem 14
In fellowship we walk around 
To find you lightly napping here,
All snugly nestled in the ground
While we imbibe the Fall’s first air.
With song and water that we bring,
And blood to offer up to you,
Without misprision we sing
Of light and life that are your due.
In endless sunlight may you grow
And cast upon the grass a shade
That folk of MagicDuel shall know
And suffer not your leaves to fade.

Day 254 Year 4

Willow poem 15
A faceless one, the story goes, 
Produced this world, an open box;
The star that so unwinking glows
Has scorched the hands upon the clocks.
Now, some will sing in Marind’s Bell
Of laurel wreaths too seldom crowned
On those who in heroics fell
And sleep by broken swords renowned;
And others still in heart of Lore
Shall dream of battles never fought
To champion the days of yore
And full preserve the truth unsought.
Necrovion will nestle close
And whisper greyly of the dead,
But stones amid its voice morose
Recall the walker’s final bed.
When drachorns swoop from aeries high
On proud Golemus in the sea,
Mount Kelle’tha will strain the eye
That seeks its summit’s mystery.
Today the lands of East unroll
From mists of hidden MagicDuel:
By word or deed we pay the toll,
The warrior, wizard, and the fool.

Day 262 Year 4

A Haiku by Moritake (1452-1540) 
 Fallen petals rise

 Fallen petals rise
 back to the branch-I watch
 oh. . . butterflies!

Day 263 Year 4

By Handy Pockets

As the mist clears, and 
The sun warms my soul.
I , on this stone path
So cool under my feet,
Watch as they come and 
Hear their voices increase
He is the first to understand my desire 
To learn all I can, it grows like fire.
The two, hand in hand, bring 
words to convey how we tend
 friends and seeds, through words 
Everyday.
There are those who join not 
nearly enough; blame those that
Steal their armor and stuff.
I , on this stone path, 
Hear their voices increase.

Day 264 Year 4

by Nacirema Asu

Did you hear? They say there is war.
How can you sit there and ask for more.
If the only reason to join is for the win.
The tale you tell, how will it spin.
Will the memories you tell be true.
Or will the cries and voices haunt you.
Two friends who won’t fight,
Two reasons come to light.
One, truth of calm conviction.
One, passivism is the restriction.

Day 266 Year 4

 by Robin Mea
 
 I'm standing here alone
 Words will be created
 But heard by non
 So will be not elated
 For what I have done

Day 270 Year 4

Robin Mea

The friendship means always lot
Never ends, no needs for dot
The friend in you that I've just got
Is realy precious, be worried not
I hope the battles in which we fought
Make us grow in way we never thought
Maybe one day will stand togethere
On battle ground, asking why or whether
But till that day, let us be friends
When we meet again lets shake our hands.

Day 274 Year 4

by Handy Pockets

It is the festival of pain.
Run back down that lane.
With thoughts out of the blue.
Will they scare you?
A chance you will see his power.
Will it be you who will cower.
Off the water, cold wind blows.
And cold from the fear grows
Talking and walking, who can you trust?
How did cold come and form a crust?
I bundle up to protect my heart.
Would it be scary, right from the start?

Day 294 Year 4

This is the first poem told to the Willow. I started the poem, 
then Awiiya added the rest. I retold it today

Weeping Willow don't you sigh
Some will come, some will go by
We will protect you as you reach the sky
weeping willow don't you sigh.

Weeping willow don't say a word
There is much pain but none you'll hear
You will grow with water so near.
and with my gentle hands your sprouts are near.

Hush Little willow your feelings are ours
The wind and rain your pillow and shower
Hear the whispers of your whistling wind
Look up at the stars, Willow and watch them spin.

Day 295 Year 4

by Awiiya

The song of a Human

Drip drop, flip flop, the sounds go together like the monsters under my bed
They watch, they wait for the sounds of sleep, the plop as I fall into the deep.
Veins pulsing with venom and eyes blare with images of ferocity,
Off I go on tangents, of those they slay, of those in the ground, and how they lay.
Taking the shapes of foes and friends alike, the people under my bed sing my death.

As a young child sleeping in my nightmarish bed, I feel lost, Willow.
Your goal is clear; towards the sky you will reach your simple fingers.
My limbs, they do not reach, they do not raise their hands to pray.
My limbs, they bend under the weight of others, they crack trying to hold me.
My hands, they are held outstretched to stop the onslaught of life against me.

Accept, give, these are the messages you give us. "I take all, broken and fixed. "
You take all, you take the broken and fix them, and the fix you recreate better.
Let your leaves be an example. Let me open my hands not to protect and fear,
Open them instead to accept, to feel, to know that everything is here. 
Sun breathe in me the words of the universal aesthetical world.

Fisted responses abate as the heart opens as a single flower in bloom.
Bees come only to the flowers with the scent of promise. 
Spread arms, holding hands, the world is small but so am I.
So are we all, close together, but far apart if you hold up your head to look.

The sprout from the seed, the heart hears the need. Water, water, 
All you need is water. Humans, we need love, acceptance, purpose, peace,
The list takes a decade to read and to avoid the fall gets no easier as life gets harder.
Love you, and you love. In our complexity we crumple like paper in a storm.
Take my waterlogged parts and wring me out.
When I am dry and ready, unfurl the hands and release. Fly me high 
And high I fly, soar in the glory of simplicity and ease.

Grow grow, sow sow, and be more to me than anyone can ever know.
Peace goes the endnote of this sonnet. Breathe deep and mutter it once, 
Then all can see why the taught leap and flutter.

Day Year 4

Nezcra

Lost now searching within oblivian.
A distant light beckons to my senses.
See it now, yet to not know its nature.
Time it seems fades everything.

Long has night passed thee by,
all that remains, a sliver of memory; 
Forever dedicated to your glory.

Reaching through the forgotten abyss.
on the horizon creeps the light of happiness
your leaves they come now into focus.

The vision is the path itself.
Come back now oh, memory. 
Tell the tale of the Willow tree.
Fall away darkness, fall away from me.

Day 306 Year 4

  His soul, twisted and tormented, cold as ice. 
  Eyes, hollow and dark, filled with insects and fear.
  Threading over the land seeking his rightful place.  
  Calling a mournful sound, wailing and calling, searching and confused. 

  She gasps,the horror she sees, as she looks at the ones she protects, as they protect her. 
  Why such destruction, how did this happen? 
  How could she leave them to fend for themselves? 
  Her heartache sends her walking, walking for the one energy she knows they need. 
  Her vital energy.
  And once again she gasps, she can not walk for her creatures, she needs to be joined 
  with others who share her common interest. 
  What will she do? She calms herself and thinks of all her options. 

  There he is, he found her and he comes to her side. 
  She sees he is in need of his rightful place. He will protect as he is protected.
  A decision is made, her walking friend will be bound again with a plan that will
  keep him safe. He will protect the rest from destruction as they heal.  
  She decides it is time to find an alliance 
  and be the one who protects the one who protects her once again.

Day 307 Year 4

by Handy Pockets
told to the Oak 

What wonderful shades of brown.
Some are shiney and round.
Some are tattered and old,
and covered in mold.
Here is one with a hat! 
Imagine that!
Perhaps food for our friends.
It depends on the trends.
leave them for the squirrels and such
what joy these acorns are to the touch
Let the acorns fall from the tree
twirl around and let yourself free.

Day 313

Why do my words run and hide?
I walk and watch them drop by my side.
To pick them up is to see them subside.
I know they are words, good and true.
to express feelings of delight or blue.
Why do my words run and hide?

Day 321 Year 4

by Handy Pockets

walking barefoot on the edge; slipping
exploring sandy hideaways; tripping
mud warm from the sun holds tight to me
darting water creatures stop to see

gentle breeze on the surface; rippling
wind like feathers, gentle; stippling
here we tell a poem to tend our tree
all this wonder here to set us free.

Day 323 Year 4

By Awiiya


A kitteh meows, and all around we look down.
We attempt to hear the words spoken in cat tongue, but quickly my face becomes a frown.
I do not understand, I wish I could, but I cannot.
So I will try and gives answers, in the dark they are shots.
But I will be wrong, for without language there are barriers ten feet tall.
My words will fling out, and fall, and his meows float then stall.
Incompetent, we communicate.

Day 326 Year 4

by Handy Pockets


A cool breeze clears the haze
Secret coves and sandy hideaways
Walking barefoot along the shore
Watching dartin water creatures explore
I stop and watch in a daze
I hope they Come together once more.

Day 329 Year 4

by Yoshi


You are a sign of life.
A sign of love and not of strife.
You show the way we all should live,
how not to take, but instead should give.
You show the peace that we should have,
how not to scowl, but instead should laugh.
You show the joy that we should share,
how not to turn, but instead should care.
You show the patience that we should show,
how not to shrink, but instead should grow.
You show the love that we should extend,
how not to hate, but instead should befriend.
You show how gentle we should be,
how not to argue, but instead should agree.
How not to entangle,
but instead should let free.

Day 333 Year 4

by Awiiya


There is something that chills, late at night here.
The people walk by and bump into me, there is the smell of fear
Quickly away they do not look down or back, and instead close their eyes
Blocking out the horror, and from my glance their heart shies.
But the horror they see comes from deep within themselves.
They look on things benign and see creatures waiting to delve.
They see shadows cast into giants so large.
But there is nothing harmful to who who walks with no fear of a slithering barge.
With the Willow by our side, and the light of Ket's attitude a few feet away
Yoshi and I cannot help but feel ready to stay.
Ready to ward off all in our way, and here we stand.
Impervious, seeing only the light in this ambivilant land.

Day 335 Year 4

Here the true magnificance one may think for a brief moment is the seed, and to that I can see, open your eyes. Whe one looks around, it becomes clear, the magnificance does not stop at the leaves of the tree, nor near the riverside. Look at Kets, look at me, and you will see, the magnificance it brings out of all three. The magnificance rests in the bringing, the rising of water to the surface, and so to this, I will kneel. Look around, the magnificance is here.