A Special Thank you,
To my Mama,
For all the support, and Love,
A daughter could ever need. I Love you.
Poetic Impressions
On Your Heart, Mind & Soul
Copyright byJami L. Pereira 2012© Smashwords Edition
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Poetic Impressions
On your Heart, Mind & Soul
SEA TO SHORE
I search, sea to shore,
Relinquishing, thoughts once more.
Sifting sand, gently beneath my feet.
The sea glides swiftly to shore, as if to greet.
As fast as the meeting, a calm retreat.
Sand, sun drenched, and wet. A tranquility, I’m not wanting to forget.
Sun bearing down, my body caress.
Feel the warmth, engulfing my senses.
Brilliant sun, causing winces.
Mine eyes closed lightly, to see what I can hear.
Amazing, the beauty that sounds so clear.
Dream a little dream, as clouds float by…
Echoing, the call of the albatross nearby.
A stiff breeze, swirls the crystals of fine white sands,
Rustling blades of salt grass, on protected wetlands.
Serenity embraces my soul.
A Fiddler crab takes a peep, from his hole.
A sweet reminder, of nature’s fragility.
In this place, there is no hostility.
No humility.
Seemingly, far away from the hustle,
Never ending bustle.
In this moment, a time to forget.
A chance to change your mindset.
Allow the beauty of nature,
To impress, upon your future.
NATURE DIVINE
Faded colors of blue and green contrast.
Parading hues, across the valley seem to last.
Blending softly, through a blanket of light fog.
Across the stream, in the bottom…
Bluish green reeds, are growing in bog.
Early dawn, promises rainbow colors of light.
Stand there, and gaze…
Abruptly, you'll be amazed of such a sight.
Thus, dawns early morning light.
Shadows dancing, from behind each tree.
Cascading leaves, waltzing on a sweet gentle breeze.
Perhaps, as a polka, dancing the leaves to and fro.
A single little leaf, performs it’s two-step show.
Landing gently, on a bed of forest moss.
Light streams across, as a picturesque semi-gloss.
Babbling, of a shallow brook nearby.
Young coyotes see their mother,
They begin, to yelp and cry.
The dainty doe, with spotted fawns graze.
A drive to the city, dulls lovely visions to a haze.
Simplicity. Easy to see, in one’s mind.
When yearning of serenity; is so pleasant, and kind.
MISTY RAIN
A misty rain slowly drips, from the eves.
Trees are at ease.
Moisture gently clings, to tender leaves.
A northern wind blows, soft and refreshing.
One of Gods' true blessings.
Washing away impurities, of soil and dirt.
The willow bends, and billows, as if to flirt.
Thunder disturbs the silence.
Light fog lies, in the distance.
Steady drizzle, against the window glass.
Hear the tiny diamond droplets, as they hit the glass.
Our precious water source.
A welcomed cleansing, with no remorse.
Rain pitter-patters, as a rhythmic calm.
Mother Nature’s thirst, from pine to palm.
Wind picks up, and lightning cracks.
Wetness soaks, the horse’s backs.
Cool and welcoming, the ponies prance.
A beautiful, carefree, fall rain dance.
An ending, to summers blazing heat wave.
The rain, a beginning of winter’s road, to pave.
Before, blistering cold abounds.
Before, ice layers on frozen ground.
Enjoy the rain, and its calming peace, profound.
Taken for granted, in its silence of sound.
Poets scribe tirelessly,
As writers of tooth, and hound.
Rain, has drenched my soul.
Taken me captive, once again, taking its toll.
Refurbishing my senses.
As laundry, hung on fences.
Mother Nature’s, dryer sheet.
Leaving the scent of clean, and sweet.
Turning, twisting, thoughts of rain,
In-discreet.
A NEW JOURNEY
The sun, broke through the clouds.
As if it were, Gods' out stretched fingers’ of the pur-est light.
To release me from the bondage, of my sadness .
The sun softly kissed, the harbors mouth.
Whilst, I Set sail… to meet the oceans.
He created, a divine beauty.
I had no idea, what this adventure would hold.
Looking beyond, the worlds’ far reaching horizon.
One could see for miles... and miles...
As if, the sea had dropped off a ledge,
Perhaps, a ledge of yesteryear.
Life’s secret travels, and destinations, unknown.
Trials and tribulations, mind blown.
Hear the waves that intensify, and moan.
Of parrots bay, and poet filled with passion, yet dis-may.
Only the lure of Gods’ Sea, could fulfill with satisfac-tion.
Filling me with enthusiasm, hope ... joy.
Salty dampness… sun drenched, are thy lips.
Pour the rose wine, and lean against thus, my hip.
I long to taste his word, in its soft, leather slip.
I pray the Lord, hold steadfast, my weary grip.
Release unworthy ways, of worldliness.
Thus, my mind needs to change, to progress.
To be in love with God, I want to be in his duress.
Light thine eyes, and show me prudence.
Amidst the briny bay, I sit and watch the otters’ play.
I bow my head, talk and pray, Lord "Help Me!” I say...
In hopes, to take thy blessed journey, someday.
To trace footprints in the sand, that he once made.
Through bitter cold, scorching heat, no shade.
As he carried all of my burdens, all my sorrows.
So that I can rejoice , in everlasting tomorrows!
OF A DAYDREAM
I stand on the shore, of a massive lake.
To ponder thoughts, of what daydreams to make.
Against powder blue skies.
Joy of nature, for my eyes.
Amidst foliage dappled in orange, and gold.
The needled pine, and evergreen, so bold.
A large flock of geese, flies overhead.
Seemingly, as an arrow…
Flying south, before the winters cold.
Over yonder way, as if laying against the mountain top,
There’s a sheep trail, thin and narrow.
Deer prancing, across a clearing, of fresh fallen snow.
Branches dry, and brittle, beneath cloven hooves,
Crackle and pop.
Breathe taking views, vivid and vast.
Wishing on my daydream, wanting it to last.
A snowbird carries twigs, of green holly.
I wonder where he's going,
My thoughts, trying to shake off the melancholy.
The brisk winter air, sends a chill down my spine.
A red fox chases a squirrel…
Lucky he made it up, that old pine.
I sigh, a sigh of exhaled relief.
I startle, as something falls at my feet.
A large, brown, oak tree leaf.
Bending down, to pick up my prize.
Perfect from stem, to leaf tip, in my eyes.
Amazing, even the leaf has a circle of life, and then it dies.
You can even see its veins.
Running through cold, hardened stem.
All dried and crinkly, just a whim.
Taking a stroll, on the pebbly shore.
Taking in a deep, breath of fresh air, once more.
When the day seems way, too short.
On the adjacent bank, the gangly-legged moose snorts.
Dipping velveteen muzzle in the water, that’s shal-low.
Seemingly,
Searching for the youngest moss bed, to swallow.
A big mouth bass, swishes away the silence.
Breaking water, appearing as if, he is conveying vio-lence.
The only real aggression, I’ve seen today.
Except for the red fox, and the squirrel, that got away.
Along the pebbly shore, of my minds day.
In my wild and vivid mind, where my dreams are made.
Forever wishing days like these, wouldn’t fade.
I travel in kayak, across the sparkling tide.
To feel the rush, as water and vessel collide.
So refreshed, of my days embarkment.
Full of pride.
I release my mind-full expressions.
With pen, On starch white parchment.
BEAUTIFUL WEED
I saw them in the shadows.
Not very tall.
Shining in the moonlit glow.
Waiting on the dew to fall.
In the evening,
Being slightly bent over.
Heavy from the long day.
Sun bearing down.
Too hot, to sway.
Breeze blow’s seeds’, all over.
In sidewalk cracks’, downtown.
Children skipping over,
Hop scotch; dodge that crack!
Don’t break your mama’s back!
As your seed rest’s, in the sidewalk crack.
Dandelion, Dandelion,
Where hast thou seed’s flown?
Out of a field, overgrown.
Hiding in a quiet place,
I picture a smile, upon your imaginary face.
Knowing that you have made it safe.
Disappearing, inside the crack.
Finding shelter, such as a waif.
Dandelion, Dandelion.
BOUNTIFUL BACKYARD
I’m taking a trip today.
Not going, where you think I may.
Not Paris, Rome, or even France.
'Round the block, to see what I can see, by chance.
Thistles, that bloom in lavender.
A prickly beauty of wonder.
Red painted brushes, grow tall to my knee.
Not wasting any time, I continue my journey.
Pastel colors of yellow, and blue.
Daintily cover the paddocks, lush hue.
Too many shades of green, to memorize.
So many colors, and scents, that mesmerize.
Stroll past the babbling brook.
Pass the time.
As once upon a time, from a storybook.
Against a stone, I lean my haunches.
Skip a rock, that launches,
Across rushing water, to watch it bounce.
Try once more, renounce.
Take the path, to the right.
Sending turtle doves, in flight.
Moistened earth, stuck to my boot.
On a tall tree, the old owl, gives a hoot.
Gnarly vines, and branches cross my way.
Not hindering my travels; no, not today.
Gently moving each limb, and twig.
Not causing damage, to any sprig.
Making way, to continue through these woods.
I'd make this trek every day, if only I could.
So majestic, is the forest, thus stood.
Behind my house, where once, was raised my brood.
I daydream once more.
Of children, playing here.
Were they afraid?, brave?, steer clear?
Imagine a game, of hide and seek.
Around tree trunks, they peer and peek.
On sad days, a bit of remorse to seek.
How many had been here, before me?
If only the land could reveal such a story.
How many others, had shared the same journey?
A novel picturesque, of serenities glory.
A STORMS WRATH
Listen to the whistling sound,
As blustery winds’ blow.
Every crack,
Bestows an attack.
A creepy, whistling, profound.
Bustling leaves, to and fro.
Hair stands up my back.
That whistling sound.
Wind’s gusting.
Lightning plummet’s the ground.
Wind howling.
Deafening jolts of electricity,
Bolts without simplicity.
Skies darken,
Growing anger.
Sensing, shear danger.
Strong, bold yet, encourage-able.
A coward, punishing the un-defense-able.
Vibrations’, under my feet,
Pulsing through my core.
An entrance, indiscreet.
Hail bounces,
Impaling objects once more.
Wind renounces,
A sudden calm.
A nervous peace.
Wind shifts’.
Trees bow…
Silence, cease…
You can feel the devil’s power now.
Whistle’s and bell’s, do tell.
Funnel clouds’ have fell.
A train tear’s through this sky.
Ripping, and unleashing death.
Unmasking my fear, don’t cry.
Wreaking havoc, and despair.
Damage caused, unfair.
Prayers given, as bread, is rye.
Wipe the tears, from thine eyes.
Pain and suffering,
Mother Nature’s casting.
Hope and determination, that’s everlasting.
THE BROKEN TREE
Broken Tree.
Standing silent.
Motionless.
No breeze.
This, gnarled tree.
Twisted branches.
Sun scorches.
Limbs, mangled and turning.
For rain, constant yearning.
Leaves, shaded in green,
Some in yellows.
Tree frogs, small, lean.
Singing their songs, as bellows.
Through the day, weeping.
Droplets, as mini flecks’ of diamonds’.
In dusk of eve, sleeping.
Weary of the day’s grueling bond.
This gnarled tree.
Natures’ notebook of history.
Abandoned, of west branches.
Eastern profile, enhances.
Damage from tornadic activity.
Ripped, limb by limb.
At witches hour, grim.
Resilient, to its stance.
To remain towered,
Un-coward.
Mother Nature’s power.
Today’s rain shower,
Cleansing, bark to root.
Wondrous stories to tell, yet mute.
Thus, this gnarled tree.
THUS, THIS STARRY NIGHT
I can picture me there.
In the darkest, of dark, night air.
Sitting against that tree.
Just the star’s, and me.
The galaxy, and it’s glory.
On a mountainous butte.
A stern resolute .
Sullen breeze.
The sound of that one lonely tree,
And me.
Stars of night,
Glimmer sweetly, for my sight.
Enjoying every moment, of the fall moonlight.
Our Galaxy so vivid, so bright.
Thus this beautiful, starry night.
Twinkling, as if to say,” hello”.
Perhaps a smile, of solstice glow.
On this, thus starry night.
When big-eyed owls, take flight.
As if, hooting, to the waning crescent.
I sit back in enjoyment.
Shear wonderment.
How such beauty, abounds.
So intimate, and profound.
Thus, this starry night.
Behold, mine eyes delight.
Seasons
Summers' sweltering heat, has faded.
Fall embraces, mother earth.
Where there was once sunlight,
now, densely shaded.
Leaves shed themselves, of tree branches.
A north wind, gently blows.
Cascading leaves , performing winter’s dances’.
Rain softly falls, across the valley low.
Turning into stinging ice,
tomorrow, there may be snow.
An Ending
West winds have shifted,
The south wind, blow’s.
Leave’s spiraling to the ground,
As fall, seems to tip toe.
However, it isn’t a new season at all.
Though leave’s and tree’s, subside to grow.
Death has its immanence, profound.
Darkness shadows, the valleys,
As a serpent swallow’s, the sparrow.
Our lives are not promised today, nor tomorrow.
Returning to ash, and cold, relenting ground.
Winters’ Kiss
Winter has come to say,” hello”.
As leaves and such, turn a pale yellow.
The chill in the air, is sweet.
This is the time of year,
Your favorite sweater,
Seems fresh, and neat.
Thus, my favorite time of year.
The air, fresh and clear.
Makes the day beautiful , sublime.
These are the days, to hold dear.
It isn’t so damn hot, you can’t think.
It’s not so bitter cold,
That you feel, bound up, and old.
These, are the days, that I cherish,
Days’ to remember.
Before I die, before I perish.
WILLOW
Oh! How beautiful you are!
Migrating, from a land afar.
Your name reflects, a sad history.
An existence, in complete mystery.
Amazing, how limbs flow, draping.
Creating visual appearance, shaping.
Oh! How beautiful you are!
Mystical legends, follow,
Not quite, up to par.
Your trunk sturdy, not hollow.
The witch’s wand, magically crafted.
Even her broom, strategically drafted.
A powerful aura, none does compare.
No other has these reputations, contraire’.
I await your adulthood, a symbolic brood.
Oh! How beautiful you are!
Although, not mourn-full.
You’re said to be weeping.