Category: Nature

Voices at the Door

Voices at the Door

fingerprints
on the ribbed window pane
crust crumbs
on the kitchen floor
apple cider bubbling
on the stove —

where have the children gone
I hug them in the warmth
of hearth fires,
hear their laughter
in the songs
of the autumn wind —

leaves plummet in violent swirls
like flocks of sandpipers
landing on the shore
topaz and rubies fade
into the salmon sky —

before winter comes
I long to hear
“the steps returning
and voices at the door” .

D. G. Vachal © 2024

* “the steps returning and voices at the door” is a passage from J. R. R. Tolkien’s poem ” I Sit Beside the Fire and Think”

Image by J Plenio @pixabay

Laughter of October

Laughter of October

Mirth at sunset:
herons scream like children
in the shallows,
golden shafts of light
play with the shadows
of auburn leaves —

Come to me,
stay awhile,
for the laughter of October
is upon my face,
a golden glow,
a raging fire that hides
in the Indian summers
of my heart.

D. G. Vachal © 2012, 2014

Image by digital2 @flickr commons

Late August

Late August

icy warmth of late August
the wind has quenched the fires
of ephemeral dandelions,
beryl drops of blood
trickle down the boughs,
return
to their invisible roots —

the cambric air is drenched in
honeysuckle fragrance,
stealthy leaves
flavescent
among the pink petals.

D. G. Vachal © 2013, 2024

Image by Jesper Norkenborg @pixabay

Love Haiku 13:15



Love Haiku 13:15


13

laughter of my love
cradled by the summer winds
sprays of lavender


14

as a blooming rose
awaits my pulsating heart
softly comes the rain


15

i think upon you
when skies are blue as the Nile
field of white lilies


© D. G. Vachal 2024

Image by Mariya M @ Pixabay

Teach Me to Number My Days

Teach Me to Number My Days

Teach me to number my days
the way You number
the hairs on my head,
the way You are mindful
of petals and sparrows
as they fall with the leaves
in the mist of autumn rain —

was it only this morning
when my hair was in pigtails,
as I dressed my dolls
in pink dresses,
dreamt of a fairytale prince 
upon a white stallion
awaiting to take me to a castle
hidden in emerald forests —

towards noon
when I felt butterflies 
fluttering in clandestine chambers 
of my youthful heart,
I met my first love
and time was suspended,
drowned in ivory clouds
and endless blue oceans —

i can still feel the afternoon warmth
when the children came
and their laughter mingled
with the melody of songbirds,
the hum of restless cicadas —

at sunset my love and I
rowed the silent rivers,
built a bonfire upon the sand,
held each other’s hand
for warmth —

and now at twilight
wrapped in the lavender glow,
i treasure the dwindling vestiges
of tender moments,
the faint beloved
song that will remain
when evening falls.

O teach me to number my days.

D. G. Vachal @ 2024

Image by Liuksena @ Pixabay