The Oath

The Oath
The Oath

 

The Oath

They all took the oath
some were barley eighteen
protecting our nations shores
and all the people in between.

Defending an idea
our forefathers did foresee
the simple notion that
mankind is meant to be free.

The cost of freedom high
the ultimate price many paid
they all took the oath
their sacrifice, we honor today.

For those who have served
past, present and yet to come
because they all take the oath
to oppression, we will not succumb.

~by Hugh A Tague

Autumn’s Sun

 

Photo by Hugh A Tague
Photo by Hugh A Tague

 

Autumn’s Sun
by Hugh A Tague

Autumn’s sun shines bright by day
warming the ground where fallen leaves lay.
As if Mother Nature had to sneeze
a strong wind blew the color from the trees.

Nighttime arrived with a clear star filled sky
sound asleep under a warm blanket we lie.
Jack Frost’s breath fell gently upon the ground
kissing the once green fields turning them brown.

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Journey For Life

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Journey For Life
by Hugh A Tague

Bursting forth from an earthbound pod
finding freedom in the late Autumn wind
adrift high above the mountain’s side
through treetops on currents of air it rides.

The winds deflected by the canopy of limbs
sending the little seed twisting and turning
the fluffy white flyer’s adventure now unsure
as it falls gently toward the forest floor.

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Star Gazing

Art by; Kathy Jurek
Art by; Kathy Jurek

Star Gazing

by Hugh A Tague

As I gaze throughout
the clear night sky
I dream of far away worlds
that are but a twinkle in my eye.

Could there be another out there
just like me?
Staring back at earth
through the planetary sea?

Is there another world
exactly like ours?
Do they dream of me
when they look upon the stars?

I may never know for sure
as we may not meet
Is there someone else out there?
Are they looking back at me?

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Forever Haunted

Lyman Allyn

Forever Haunted
by, Hugh A Tague

The blood red harvest moon shone through
the sparse Autumn treetops, chasing away
a fast moving thunderstorm. The cold
October wind blew down the quiet lane
making leaves dance, like spirits on the run.

A porch light set a warm glow on a jug of cider
placed next to a plate of candied apples.
A scarecrow stuffed with hay, stood sentry on the stoop
as a jack-o-lantern flickered the darkness
away from the walk.

Backlit by the streetlight, little witches, ghosts and goblins
cast elongated shadows. The sound of children laughing
echoed on the breeze, as they meandered up the street.

A ferocious storm shook the town many years ago.
Under the cover of darkness, a fugitive
slipped away from his confines.
Nothing that is good will come this night.
His vision clouded by evil, the escapee sped down the hill
like a runaway train, obliterating three very young trick-or-treaters, then crashing into the light pole, his life too ended just as swiftly as his victim’s.

The ground began to rumble as a powerful wind roared past,
and a wicked silence fell upon the lane. The moon’s light
washed the darkness away from the house
with the festive porch, revealing that it has actually
been long abandoned. The children had lived in that house.
Their parents unable to survive just feet away
from the place they perished, simply left,
never to return again.

All for a freedom that lasted but a splinter of time.
The killer’s soul now condemned to exist only in shadows,
tortured and twisted by the guilt of my sins,
yes my sins, it was me,
it was I who extinguished their lights
it was I, that ended their lives.

Every year since, on all hallows eve
I must look upon what I have done. I must relive it
over and over again. Because I have deprived
so many of so much, my spirit remains
infinitely restless.

My regret and sentence eternal,
by the shadows of that dark and evil Halloween night
I shall continue to be…
Forever Haunted.

Fall of The Sumac Phoenix

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Fall of The Sumac Phoenix
by Hugh A Tague

Helios’ sun no longer reigns supreme
as Autumn’s sky begins to cool and gray
Hephaestus loads his brush in nature’s forge
painting each of the bird’s feathers with fire
wings stretched, the sumac looks skyward
milkweed burst in puffs of white smoke
and the phoenix is consumed by winter
until Boreas’ takes his last frosty breath
with Spring’s gentle touch, comes resurrection.

Can You See What I See?

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Can You See What I See?

by  Hugh A Tague

I see Autumn’s brilliant colors are all but gone,
Summer’s sweet song has long been sung.
Short days followed by endless cold nights,
brown forest and fields are now Winter’s delight.

I see a bear walking about curious and free,
no more long Summer’s naps, in the shade of a tree.
She now searches for a safe and suitable den,
so her and her cubs, can sleep until Winter’s end.

I see squirrels abandon their tree-top penthouse suites,
storing nuts underground, or in the hollow of a tree.
Needing food aplenty, they will not sleep Winter away,
even on the snowiest days, the squirrels frolic and play.

Continue reading “Can You See What I See?”