Tag Archives: beauty

Coming of Age

Another great poem from Betty, and time I shared one with you…

Seasonings

.

He says she’s over the hill,

that she’s dancing

with entropy

toward the valley below

.

but she hears the call

of flickers, and the chitter

of squirrels,

and she sees ahead

.

lush meadows, tall trees,

and moss-covered stones

on the path

by a sapphire river.

.

There, she’ll follow the scent

of her own deep roots

to a range of mountains,

their tops hidden

.

in the subtleties he missed

between the lines

on her face

when e’er she smiled.

.

.

(c)  2018  Betty Hayes Albright

.

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Poem: Nebula

Words cannot encompass this nebulaic magnificence
Glowing dust hides star birth from prying eyes
Stars that dwarf our own mother sun lurk in clouds lit by particle winds
Radiation surges and particle winds sculpt huge gas pillars
Gas that has fed billowing pregnant clouds and grown embryo stars
Glows in colours beyond our eyes capacity to see
This beauty has travelled for almost seven millennia to achieve our orbit
Photons radiating away from the stellar birthing place
Those remaining after absorption and reflection losses are here
Now washing our instruments with glory
Now humbling our eyes with truth

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Inspired by February 5th Picture of the Day: http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap160205.html

Space Within

Considering the expanding universe and ultimate cooling, I pause
remembering photos of star birth amid nebulosity,
nuclear furnaces blossoming.

Telescopes in orbit or secluded in foreign deserts
produce pictures in lights we cannot see
show immensities in glorious un-colours.

In the back garden, I look up, past scudding clouds,
watch coloured pinpricks arrayed over black sky
with occasional satellites twinkling by beneath.

Feeling the breeze, green with trees, redolent with life
thinking of all those things we cannot see
here and all the way up there.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Wrecks

In the dew-drop abyss near
Wrecks of molecules appear;
In the far abyss of the sky
Wrecks of outworn  worlds  drift by…
But in the protean abyss of the soul
Wrecks of motes and universes roll.

by Theodore Stephanides, who should be familiar to all who love Gerald Durrell‘s “My Family and other Animals”. Theodore was a polymath, and wrote wonderful poetry.