Posts Tagged ‘Earth’




I give my body

for your tables

and your chairs,

for bracelets

and for drums.

You hammer me

into your floors,

untie my shiny knots

beneath your feet.

Can you hear me whisper?


My branches stretch

to stars and wind

and fold you close at night,

and in the dawn

you grind me

into sawdust

for your pathways

and your barns –

you dance a jig on me.

Can you hear me sigh?


My leaves

suck the poison

from your air

and shield your faces

from the heat.

Then tenderly

they cover Earth

with patchwork colors

suckling winter into spring.

Can you hear me howl?

I am Tree.



©  2012, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright


(re-post from 2012)



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Rivers run

they do not walk

they crest a dam

and do not talk

while smoothing rocks

and rocking banks

in curving stones

and filling lakes

with bubbled lights

and gillied fishes

feeding wells

and granting wishes

silver curved

pastoral scenes

in flows of bold

through forest greens

and wearing blue

lent from the sky

where falling water

dragons fly

in grassy hair

and clover pops,

through sunny glare

and mossy tops




         its way.



© 2012, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright 


(a re-post)

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Heavy laden sky

surrenders to lure of earth

forest is hush-hush.



 © 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright


(A re-post) 

Photo taken 12-20-2013


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When we let it grow

a weed might just surprise us

with uncut beauty.


(c) 2014, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright




(a re-post)


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She stifled her passion

with a bone cork

and Earth became

a rocking jug

with aching sides

and tears that leaked

through cracks

and there was naught

but a dry brown light

across the sky.


The gods looked down

and cursed.

They pulled loose the plug

and ground it to dust

with flying fists

until Earth trembled

and roared

its mountainous heat

into the sky

in a billowing boundless fount

of love un-damned.



(c)  1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright



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She burrows under

leaves and twigs

slides past thorn

and nettle

chews through

her own roots

to mate with worms

where the soil is dark

and sweet.

Earth fills her ears

with lullabies

and she sleeps


in tomorrow’s rose.


(c) 1992, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright


(a re-post)



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She searches for a pulsetree-in-hand

her fingers kneading earth

beneath rocks and stones

to reach the heart of Gaia.

There she rides the quake

of nature’s first womb

lifting her face

to catch the genesis

of sun and rain


and moon

till seedlings birth

their promises.

Labor replete

she bows her head

and the gods kiss the dirt

beneath her nails.


(c) 1992, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright


(a re-post)


Photo originally used with permission of Jason in 2012 at  http://loveuniversallove.wordpress.com/


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