The Old Wizard

The Old Wizard, Art by Alexandra Khitrova
Old Wizard, Art by Alexandra Khitrova

The Old Wizard
by Hugh A Tague

Born by the sea
the blood within my veins
flow with the tides.
Waves crash inside me
as fate plays out upon
Life’s great stage.
Rain dancing with soil
cleanses Wind-swept dust
from pillars reaching skyward
quenching life’s Sun-blanched thirst.
Gray clouds spiral above
filling with light and sound
the storm’s magic
is no longer silent.
My bones tremble
Ocean’s ebon depths rise
and the shore surrenders to her fury.
Gale-fired swells flood the land
calling to mind from which
all things have come.
Subject only to Time
the course of the storm
allows the ground to again
kiss the air soaking up the light of day.
Perched upon my mountain’s top
Time’s toll on my form evident
each droplet of future’s rain
forecast in the joints
that hold me together.
Like an Old Wizard
without a book of spells
pain’s relief escapes me

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.

Continue reading “Autumn’s Sun”

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.

Continue reading “Journey For Life”

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?”

Just Turn Around

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Just Turn Around

 

by Hugh A Tague

Their form beckons to a past time and place
In the bright light time stops for not a soul
sunshine transformed into yesterday’s sight
memories and dreams cast in black and white.

Its all but lost now this style and grace
a seen played out witnessed to not one eye
her pleated dress his top hat so passé
silhouettes dance in shades of black and gray.

Shadows know not time nor respect of bounds
sashaying upon the wall with great mirth
her dress fluttered as if caught by the breeze
he took her hand her heart she gave to thee.

love faded into the storm’s dark abyss
as clouds slipped in front of the sun’s spot light
for no longer can they frolic and play
unwilling to see they just walk away.

Their form beckons to a past time and place
its all but lost now this style and grace
sunshine transformed into yesterday’s sight
memories and dreams cast in black and white.

they walk away
love and hope behind them
just turn around

(Free Rhyme Quatrain)
closed with a Codas in; (English Senyu 4-6-4)

Late Summer Storm

“Late Summer Storm” by Cindy Griffith
“Late Summer Storm” by Cindy Griffith

 

Late Summer Storm

by Hugh A Tague

The long warm Summer’s day
now begins to cool and fade
nighttime creeps into the day’s light
Winter’s reign of darkness now in sight.

Trees are the first as if prearranged
recognizing Mother Nature’s subtle change
denying life giving essence to branches and limbs
storing all its nourishment deep down within
soon they will enjoy a long winter’s sleep
a lasting silence but for an occasional crack or creek.

Continue reading “Late Summer Storm”

The Feathery First Mate

Jack_the_parrot_by_JACKIEthePIRATE
“The Feathery First Mate”
(QUATRAIN) In first person
by Hugh A Tague

Gliding high on a warm ocean breeze.
Over white sands beaches and bright blue seas.
Or perched way up high in a coconut tree.
That’s just a few places that I like to be.

From my crown to my tail and on both my wings
Color abounds, red, blue, yellow, and green.
when pirates came to visit me in my tree,
The captain of the ship took a fancy to me.

Continue reading “The Feathery First Mate”

Accolades

Tomorrow's Awakening by Rachel Bingaman
“Tomorrow’s Awakening” by Rachel Bingaman

Accolades

by, Hugh A Tague

Winter
The silent, and unforgiving boreal descends
Upon tawny fields and umber forests.
Snowflakes glisten with hues of periwinkle.
Endless night’s moon sires ice crystal’s twinkle.

Continue reading “Accolades”

Masterpiece: Day’s End

Masterpiece: Day's End
Masterpiece: Day’s End

Masterpiece: Day’s End
by Hugh A Tague

A magenta glow stained horizon
announced the end of a beautiful day
evenings cool air fell upon the shore
as summer’s sun dove deep into the bay.

Continue reading “Masterpiece: Day’s End”

The Longest Day

Summer Solstice- Painting by Mark Garro
Summer Solstice- Painting by Mark Garro

The Longest Day

by Hugh A Tague

On this special Summer Solstice day
the great sun keeps the night at bay
but still the moon comes out to play
alongside the sun’s life giving rays.

Rejoice and bask in the extended heat
forever mother nighttime can not sleep
her promise to us all she must keep
into the daytime the night shall creep.

Continue reading “The Longest Day”

Dandelions Are Everywhere

"Terraforming" by Jess McCole
“Terraforming” by Jess McCole

Dandelions Are Everywhere

by Hugh A Tague

Dandelions here there and everywhere
tight little buds reach and stretch for the sky
a full bloom sits atop a long tall stem
tiny seeds blow away to are again.

You can find them growing in your green lawn
even on a barren planet like Mars
small fluffy seeds that are lighter than air
ensure dandelions are everywhere.

Summer’s sun’s rays bounce off the flower heads
like a field of gold at the rainbow’s end
adrift on a gentle warm summer breeze
flying away like a squadron of bees.

Sunlight nourishes the buttons of gold
they close up tight with the chill of the night
growing anywhere sturdy as can be
some say they aren’t flowers just worthless weeds.

Tight little buds reach and stretch for the sky
they close up tight with the chill of the night
small fluffy seeds that are lighter than air
ensure Dandelions Are Everywhere.

dandelions-are-everywhere- TRR Poetry

Decoration Day

Decoration Day by Hugh A Tague
Decoration Day by Hugh A Tague

Decoration Day

By Hugh A Tague

Stones of white sprawl as far as eyes can see
fields of green survivors’ tears now nourish
the sun shone upon the flowers of May
decorating the hallowed place they lay.

The cold days of winter now left behind
spring ends so that summer may come to be
born through the compassion in Shiloh town
widows gray, for the blue laid flowers down.

Canon balls, bullets and bones of the dead
long buried beneath a blanket of earth
beckoning to a time brothers stood brave
some decked in blue yet their kin stood in gray.

From the ashes of conflict felt within
consecrated through the fire of war
a nation of people once divided
proudly under one flag stand united.

Stones of white sprawl as far as eyes can see
spring ends so that summer may come to be
the sun shone upon the flowers of May
decorating the hallowed place they lay

Flaming Beauty

Photo by Ashok Babu Thangaraj
Photo by Ashok Babu Thangaraj

Flaming Beauty

by Hugh A Tague

Sunshine rain and earth
transformed to feed
the tight little pods.

Vibrant lime stems
delivers nourishment
to the buds of gold
safely nestled among
guardian green leaves.

The day’s light
warms and excites them
the night’s cool air
allows them rest.

In anticipation
of nature’s promise
they patiently await
their debut.

Each in its own time
burst into full display
like a flame held high
upon a branch of life
in brilliant color
beholding to my
adoring eyes.

From High Atop Your Tree

From High Atop Your Tree by Hugh A Tague
From High Atop Your Tree by Hugh A Tague

From High Atop Your Tree

 by Hugh A Tague

Tweet, tweet, tweet little bird,
sing me a song of love.
Sing to me of passion so free
from your perch above.

Tweet, tweet, tweet little bird,
sing me a song of life.
Sing to me of happiness and joy
not of pain and strife.

Tweet, tweet, tweet little bird,
sing me a song each day.
Sing to me of bright sunshine
not of skies of gray.

Tweet, tweet, tweet little bird,
sing me a songs of glee.
Sing me awake each morning,
from high atop your tree.

Sunset of the Olympians

Photograph by Jason Schack Photography©
Photograph by Jason Schack Photography©

Sunset of the Olympians

by Hugh A Tague

Poseidon’s waves lap the beach
Helios’s Sun prepares to sleep
Zeus gathers clouds for the sky
Hephaestus colors it with his fire
Aura adds a gentle breeze
Artemis put the animals to sleep
Apollo raises the moon for us
The day’s light turns to dusk.

Day turns to night then back into day
Never again is it exactly the same.

Peeling Away Winter’s Mask

 

Peeling Away Winter’s Mask

By Hugh A Tague

The pure polar blanket of alabaster
that once lay at the feet of sleeping trees
no longer reflects the faint day’s light
from barren skies of grey.
Vanquished from the surface,
transformed into liquid tinder,
fueling the inferno of rebirth overhead.

The lake’s opaque tempered shell
falls victim to longer days of Spring.
Solar rays peel back Winter’s mask
from the great mirror’s face,
once again allowing Mother Nature’s image
to rebound into the heavens.

I am but a single bard, standing in awe
as the muse of the cosmos whispers
gently in my ear; inspiring my voice,
empowering my pen, painting my soul
with respect; a respect of this place
here and now, this beautiful place,
adrift among the stars.

Photograph  by Hugh A Tague
Photograph
by Hugh A Tague