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JOANNE TOLSON - Page 3

Histoires Automnes City Symphony Agents of Creation
Celtic Song On How I Became Schrodinger Silence of the ponies
Leaves of Fall Snowballs in Space Squirrel Net
Inky Landscape Celtic souls Aurora Borealis
Galileo The Cosmic Alliance
Leap of Faith
Poets Cold Winter Moon
The Black Skull: Khali Ma
Inca Maiden's sacrifice God's Machines
Beyond the Moon
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L'Histoires Automnes


Summer passing,

autumn increases with changing temperatures;

leaves turn bright gold, orange, red, purple, brown;

losing their mettle,

they fall, descending slowly by gravity's pull;

pecan nuts plunge to the ground

as a shivering, chilling wind

sweeps leaves across autumn's palette of colors.


Ocean breezes roughened by north sea winds surge wildly;

autumn gales increase with changing temperatures

as the Atlantic Ocean grows colder, like the old woman she is;

autumn winds sweep across her body,

chasing away her hoar frost on a bitterly chilly autumn morning,

by the warming breath of the trade winds

warming the nipples of her waves as they peak.


Pumpkins nestle in a bed of pecan and sycamore leaves,

blanketed by pine straws;

squirrels search eagerly among the leaves

for nuts and seeds;

they scamper, rustle through leaves, forever searching;

restless, alert, vigilant,

they watch, aware that winter is nipping at their backs.


Leaves descend to gravity's pull,

gently tugged, wafted and carried to the ground;

maple sap trickles down, collecting in pails,

destined to be married to blueberries and pancakes,

hot tea and coffee.

Snow is not far behind.







City Symphony


I hear the city's ensemble play its symphony,

and rain leap on spinning tires like applause

on this rainy day;

humming engines road like throaty arias,

lift their voices to the sky.

Sirens sing reprisals to the chorus,

the dew on the grass are like tears from an audience.

Leaves dance on every beat like passers by,

listening in the street.

Stars twinkle like stage lights

as the train runs late at night,

pulls through summing up a final encore.







Agents of Creation


Where does heaven reside?

In the universe where God abides.

How on earth does life decide?

In mutating its DNA.

When asteroids collide with earth,

to what new life will it

give birth?

Life in its Godly scheme,

must evolve and de-evolve.

In man's dream,

he takes flight,

as his ancient ancestors dreamed,

observing the stars at night.







Celtic Song


Begins as musicians play,

Beating out an ancient melody

On flutes and drums.

Out flows the Celtic trinity,

Sprites and elves dance,

All day swaying

To an ancient beat and rhythm.

The forest joins in song,

Foxes dance about the logs

In merriment, chasing mice.

The ancient heart of the green man sings,

For spring is on its way.







On How I Became Schrodinger's Cat


There's a molecular highway among the stars

with neutrinos the size of one-hundreth of

a million kilos, or more, or as small as a mouse;

in between the molecular veil walks the

Schrodinger's cat of scientific myth --

I cross the space and distance,

reaching the sun in pure spirit form;

unsinged, I return to my burning body,

called back to my earthly vessel of the soul.

I walked where Schrodinger's cat,

like ancient Bastet, would have walked in her time.







Silence of the Ponies


The silence of the ponies grows

on the shores of nearby islands,

on the outerbanks of North Carolina;

disease and man take their toll.


The silence of the ponies grows,

the last snorts, last chortles, last whinnies, last whimpers;

the last days of freedom die,

breaking through the breakers on the shores.


The silence of the ponies grows,

sounding fury over seagulls,

rebellious strides from a galleon's progeny,

breaks open upon the cape lookout's shores.


The silence of the ponies grows,

ever more into history's lore,

the cape's treasures;

once a Spanish galleon's cargo's pride.







Leaves of Fall


Leaves of fall are turning,

changing colors like the changing of the guard

they go from greens to reds,

purples to browns like a kaleidoscope changing.


Leaves of fall hing on the autumnal equinox,

as the southern constellations go,

birds sing and chirp in trees;

they talk of the weather,

leaves crisp and brown fall down,

like stars from the night sky.


Leaves of fall float and fall down,

in the cool crisp air of summer's demise,

turn toward the state's fair.







Snowballs in Space


Comets zoom by earth,

giant snowballs in space.

Surrounded by planets and stars,

comets are lost in the sea of

the universe.

Snowballs in space

from the distant galaxy of X.







Squirrel Net


In the early morning darkness huming birds

flit around,

weary nector hunters gathering,

quails echo calls to one another.


Squirrels sound off alerts,

wicked cats wait hungrily watching squirrels,

in endless motion on silver barked trees;

as cats' tails swing and flick in silence and

captivity.


Branches touch like a bridge,

strange to cats who look on,

creating ribbon like paths to safety;

sundown comes casting shadows of pale light.

Not so humble cats walk away,

golden halo surrounds slipping disk on the horizon,

seasons forecast written in the clouds swiftly changing

as days pass.







Inky Mountain Landscape


On the majestic inky grey-black mountains,

inky grey sky sits over its peaks,

paper white clouds pass by.

A paper white ribbon runs through

the valley of inky black pine forests,

gleaming variations of a monocromatic shades,

shades of black;

shades of grey on a white background,

mountain peaks on a landscape art work.







Celtic souls

Live in the stone work,
Dancing on the stonehedges;
Leaving at dawn.
They dance about until the solstice day,
Rising from the bog lands and meadows
At dusk.
Waiting for all souls day to come,
unseen among the new druids.







Aurora Borealis


The shining waves of light

in the Northwest,

it is the Aurora Borealis tripping

the light fantastic.

Mystical lights of the atmosphere

shine on the snow at night.







Galileo


Dreamt of the universe,

Through his telescope he did see

In his mind's eye the sun,

The center of our galaxy.







The Cosmic Alliance


The universe begins among stars,

nearby and in the distance

stars are shining somewhere;

galaxies explode, the universe

lit up,

alive,

like a spark plug in an engine

and piston jumping up and down.

That's how quasars make the universe

sound.

Our galaxy is full of noise,

but can anyone hear a star's loud cry?







Leap of Faith


Taking the leap of faith,

walking among the stars,

walking on the celestial staircase of

the great milky way.


Taking the leap of faith,

like an astronaut on his tether out in space,

walking among the stars,

like walking on water.


Taking the leap of faith,

stepping on the planets

like stepping stones,

the ancient remnants of the universe.







Poets


Poets present and past

were bards who entertained

lords, vassals and ladies

of the feudal class.

Now poets aren't for the fortunate few,

poets are for everyone;

is there one in you?







Cold Winter Moon


Cold winter moon shines brightly upon the winter snow,

reflected light illuminates the forest;

night shadows sway upon the fresh blown carpeting,

woodland rabbits scurry in the moonlight.

Somewhere wolves howl in the night

by full moon's light;

underneath a stellar night sky dome of stars and constellations

is the night world of sleep that rules the imagination;

shadows on the world take flight beneath a hallowed moon of Cybele,

the huntress-goddess.

It is the hunter's moon that shines brightest on the earth.

With Attys at her side she rides the countryside,

hunting day and night, looking for a hind to sight.







The Black Skull: Khali Ma


In the very, very ancient earth

lay a black skull, scattered and broken:

Khali ma,

black skull.


The ancient man whose remains turned black

doesn't yield his age; he is the ancient

of the ancient

from the days before numbers,

before cuneiform,

before the wheel;

before the generations of Adam

was Khali ma,

black skull.

Silent now, he makes no comment

as anthropologists ask the questions:

Khali ma,

black skull.







Inca Maiden's sacrifice


She sits in a transfixed stare

Like a frozen record in time,

A moment,

Bride of the mountain god of fire

Who rains down mud, fire and rocks

On villagers below.

He vents and distills his supreme ire,

Pelts the villagers on highways

And in their homes

On the hillside where the llama roam.

The Inca maiden betrothed to the volcano

Mountain god

Soothes and pacifies the tumultuous groom,

Bedazzling him with colorful garments,

Jewelry and a feather cloak.

She sleeps beside her volcano mountain groom,

She and the god rest for eternity.







God's Machines


We are God's machines made in an image of Him,

we are perfect but not perfect,

made from chemical elements,

thrown into the matrix of creation,

cast like clay or precious metal,

freed from the mold of life, at His invocation.

We are God's most perfect machines,

designed to live, breathe, work

and worship;

we are caretakers of God's earthly creation,

the precious gemstones in the crown of His glory.







Beyond the Moon


Beyond the moon with the first human foot prints

are stars and moons,

meteors and asteroids, deep lasting darkness,

and zero temperatures.


Beyond the moon is a world of voided planets.

An American flag stands flying for these

alien worlds to see;

and barren planets of life unforetold hang like

suspended marbles in a gallery;

they wait for some first meeting of a

new federation, or strange alliance.





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