
.
Bone-deep in winter
meadow trees are sleeping, but
time skates on thin ice.
.
.
(c) 2022 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Water-color by my grandmother, Lilly Bjornstad
.
Posted in haiku or senryu, just a scribble, Poetry 2010 - present, tagged freeze, nature, poem, Poetry, senryu, tick tock, time, Trees, winter on January 3, 2022| 48 Comments »
Posted in Deep Water, meditation, Poetry 1990's, tagged fire, Love, meditation, passion, poem, Poetry, spirituality, winter on December 30, 2020| 20 Comments »
.
I am the water
you draw from your well –
steep me
into your tea.
.
I am the slice of hot toast
on your plate –
let me melt
your fresh apple butter.
.
I am the evergreen
on your morning walk –
breathe me
into your shadow.
.
I am the eyes
meeting yours in the marketplace –
see the pangs
of my hunger.
.
I am the line
down the middle of your road –
follow me
through the desert.
.
I am the match
that lights your winter fire –
catch my sparks
in a jar.
.
I am the shooting star
in your fevered night –
wish for me
one more time.
.
.
(c) 1995, 2020 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(a re-post, revised….)
.
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged light, Love, peace, poem, Poetry, seasons, winter, Winter Solstice on December 19, 2019| 31 Comments »
.
Frosty colors
fall like snow
through trees —
precipitations of sun
filling the tangle
of briar and wood.
.
A lone sprite sings
her winter song
as doves wing overhead,
their tail feathers spread
to polish the lens
of the sky.
.
.
(c) 1996, 2019 Betty Hayes Albright
.(Re-posted from 2011, revised.)
.
Happy Winter Solstice!! 🌲 🌞 🌲
(And to our friends south of the equator a Happy Summer Solstice! 😎 )
Wishing everyone a peaceful holiday season!
Posted in Poetry 2010 - present, tagged cats, feral, Gaia, hunger, nature, poem, Poetry, wildlife, winter on October 12, 2019| 36 Comments »
.
She puts food
outside her door
for the cats
and raccoons
and the Scrub Jays –
.
and for all
who leave soft
wild footprints
in the frost.
.
.
(c) 2019 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Posted in Poetry 1980's, tagged darkness, light, Love, nature, poem, Poetry, winter, Winter Solstice on December 29, 2018| 38 Comments »
.
In the afternoon gloom
I know it will soon
be time to tread
the snowy path home
.
where distant candles
light the way
to my fire, my books,
and my love.
.
And tomorrow the sun
will rise a bit sooner
dispelling the darkness
a little bit longer,
.
melting away
the frostbitten edge
of this unsung
penumbra of night.
.
.
(c) 1988, 2018, 2021 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(An old, unpublished poem, taken out of mothballs.)
.
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged empathy, grief, Love, mourning, poem, Poetry, snow, winter on December 13, 2018| 28 Comments »
.
I still remember
your winter mourning
when you were dark-empty
.
and I reached
through the ether
and wrapped my arms
around your shadow
tasting your hard tears
.
and you stood taller than light
with grief,
new-fallen and noble
as the snow.
.
.
(c) 1994, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Posted in Poetry 1980's, tagged autumn, fall, leaves, Love, passion, poem, Poetry, winter on December 1, 2018| 23 Comments »
.
Falling brittle down
through the fog
I crack and break.
.
You take me carefully
to your hearth
once more –
we knew I’d never last
till winter.
.
When the fog lifts
I crumble,
await another spring.
.
.
(c) 1982, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(From 1982, never before published, so pretend it’s new. 😉 )
.
Posted in haiku or senryu, Poetry 2010 - present, tagged birch trees, endurance, Gaia, nature, poem, Poetry, senryu, survival, winter on February 17, 2018| 39 Comments »
..
.
Birch trees catch my eye
deep in the trough of winter
white bark withstanding.
.
.
© 2014, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
Partial of an original watercolor by my grandmother,
Lilly Bjornstad. (She painted this when she was about 100. She lived to 108.)
.
(re-post)
Posted in Poetry 1990's, tagged fall, life, poem, Poetry, spring, summer, time, time flies...., winter on February 3, 2018| 38 Comments »
.
from the calendar –
seconds, minutes lost.
They steal away
into the fog
and freeze to winter’s frost.
.
I close my eyes
and there’s an hour
missing from the day.
It turned into
a floppy kite
and spring blew it away.
.
Dripping
through my fingers
another day has gone,
evaporated
yesterday
from summer’s placid pond.
.
And soon a year
has fallen
bright confetti on the ground
and I wonder
if we’ll ever have
the time to just slow down.
.
.
© 1992, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(….and another 26 years has flown by since writing this….)
.
(a re-post)
Posted in Deep Water, Poetry 2010 - present, tagged Deep Water, Gaia, longing, Love, memories, nature, patience, poem, Poetry, Trees, winter on January 20, 2018| 33 Comments »
.
Are they really lifeless
those empty arms
of winter
branching leafless
in naked grace?
Gaia says no,
that deep in frozen dreams
memories thicken,
sweet syrup
of other times gone
and dreams to come.
Till then these aching limbs
reach out to the silence,
bare
but not barren.
.
.
© 2013, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright
.
(a re-post)