A Paradox Reflection

A Paradox Reflection

by Hugh A Tague

Starry skies over the full moon’s bright light
daytime’s rays shine throughout the clear blue sky
from here I view the other side of me
on this rock I see all that I will be.

The vast universe always in balance
good and evil forever contrasting
a paradox reflection in real time
dark and light divided by a thin line.

Black or white no shade of gray in-between
my station of life my perch on this stone
looking back at me with a knowing glare
unable to fly I just stand and stare.

Feathers glisten with light from either world
a cool breeze blows gently across my crown
as I bow my head and look down my beak
I see the other me below my feet.

Starry skies over the full moon’s bright light
daytime’s rays shine throughout the clear blue sky
dark and light divided by a thin line
a paradox reflection in real time.

Here Comes The Pain

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Art work by,
PAtScHWOrK
https://www.facebook.com/patschwork

Here Comes The Pain

by Hugh A Tague

The sky darkens with clouds of deep despair
Streets glisten in crimson as the pain falls
Now it’s time to tread where others have fled
Through these streets of grief now painted in red.

An umbrella my only protection
Safely in the shadow of this shelter
Flooding negativity is insane
The streets now run red with sorrow and pain.

Sounds of suffering thunders from above
Freefalling from ominous dark black clouds
Can I weather another storm of pain
Am I strong enough to walk through this rain.

All that is good takes shelter from the storm
Nothing I can do to make it all stop
Searching the sky for a glimmer of hope
Just one ray of sunlight will help me cope.

Streets glisten in crimson as the pain falls
Sounds of suffering thunders from above
Now it’s time to tread where others have fled
Through these streets of grief now painted in red.


Springtime’s Glory

Sugar magnolia, blossoms blooming, heads all empty and I don't care,
“Sugar magnolia, blossoms blooming, heads all empty and I don’t care”~Robert Hunter

Springtime’s Glory

by Hugh A Tague

Winter’s snow falls victim to the sun’s rays
The once hard soil softens with spring’s touch
Sleeping tree’s roots awaken with great thirst
From their mighty branches newborn buds burst.

The sun’s light cuts through the still sparse treetops
Bright green sprouts brake through the earth’s fertile crust
A fast running creek feeds the thawing lake
Tiny birds search about for worms to take.

A spring breeze drifts across the forest floor
A hawk soars high on warm air fed currents
A carpet of clover fills a clearing
Along our path bluebells are appearing.

Broken tree limbs winter’s wrath remembered
The fall’s felled leaves are now spring’s top soil
Shades of brown take on green and golden hues
Migrating birds make the trip home to roost.

The sun’s light cuts through the still sparse treetops
The once hard soil softens with spring’s touch
Sleeping trees roots awaken with great thirst
From their mighty branches newborn buds burst.

Cabin Fever

Bars of Ice

Cabin Fever

by Hugh A Tague

The day’s radiant sunshine gives them life
a clear cloudless blue sky grants full access
white crystals begins to glisten then flow
thawing them from the rooftop’s stock of snow.

Droplets of water ride down the steep pitch
slowing as each falls over the ice edge
racing toward the cold snow covered ground
these lucid travelers polar air now surround.

Gravity draws their essence to the earth
cold tempered their form is compromised
riding the surface of those that came before
and still they are pulled toward the forest floor.

Winter hands down its sentence onto me
confined by the warmth inside my home
cabin fever is driving me insane
bars of ice now my prison’s window pane.

Droplets of water ride down the steep pitch
the day’s radiant sunshine gives them life
racing toward the cold snow covered ground
these lucid travelers polar air now surround.

Mother Nighttime

Mother Night by PAtScHWOrK https://www.facebook.com/patschwork
Mother Night by PAtScHWOrK https://www.facebook.com/patschwork
Mother Nighttime 
by Hugh A Tague

Mother of darkness and all that is unseen.
The full moon’s bright light is all her glory.
Daytime’s warmth surrenders to her cool shade,
releasing her nighttime into the day.

Her sorrow falls to moonless pitch darkness.
Her silent cloak envelopes everything.
Nighttime’s mystery belongs to her,
to not another can darkness refer.

Nocturnal creatures lurk in her shadow.
Dense evenings clouds block the heaven’s light.
Nighttime’s high seas reign black from shore to shore,
until morning’s first light, the darkness adorns.

Possessing all that is considered nighttime.
The moon’s beams and all that they shone upon,
whose reflections in hues of blue and gray.
A star’s light that twinkles from far away.

Mother of darkness and all that is unseen.
Dense evenings clouds block the heaven’s light.
Daytime’s warmth surrenders to her cool shade,
releasing her nighttime into the day.

 

#poetry #art #HughATague #freerhymequatrain

America Deceived

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America Deceived
by  Hugh A Tague

The American dream was once so clear
equality and freedom was the call.
“We The People” see through rose colored glasses,
while the wealthy cover their greedy asses.

False prophets preach to the mindless minions,
cloaked within a facade of righteousness.
With funds made from the sweat of the deceived
they reign supreme from the highest of seats.

Forty acres and a mule once proclaimed,
still we’re played for fools by those we elect.
Hungry and homeless children go to sleep,
both parents work still they can’t make ends meet.

Just poverty and despair trickle down,
our working class poor bearing the brunt.
Their children in service now blindly stand,
for corporate profit they die in foreign lands.

Forty acres and a mule once proclaimed,
false prophets preach to the mindless minions.
“We The People” see through rose colored glasses,
while the wealthy cover their greedy asses.