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

Jack Frost’s Storm

Jack Frost's Storm

Jack Frost’s Storm
by Hugh A Tague

A white birch bows to Jack’s command
laden with ice upon each limb and branch
all of Summer’s color, his magic blanched
silent, it’s burden held within a frozen trance

Nearby an old willow stands up straight
once flowing branches completely encased
Her limbs pulled to the ground from the weight
Summer sleeps under a canopy of crystal drapes.

The landscape has become unknown
locked in place with tools of ice and snow
a tranquil wonderland only he could sow
Jack Frost’s Storm, a spectacle to behold.