#poem “The tree stands alone upon a clifftop hill” #WritingCommunity

The tree stands alone upon a clifftop hill
Overlooking the delightful elegant sweep
Of the bejewelled bay below
It exists oblivious to the intricate beauty
Of the scrolls and fine pattern work and marquetry
Etched upon the withered bark of its aged frame
The wreath of a calm dignity that comes only with great age
Is its crowning glory
It belies the true state of the unnoticed quiet life lived
By one whose long list of accomplishments visible and invisible
Of fortitude and wisdom acquired over a lifetime
Of service practical as well as aesthetic
Bestow untold blessings particular to lives
Such as that of this tree
Singled out for their unique story
Of an unfathomable depth a timbre
Lived out in singular geographical position
A mere inconsequential dot on the mighty planet that is Earth
Of little import to the World
But of a significant greatness nevertheless
To those who care to pause beside the tree to ponder it awhile
d.a.simpson ©

On the bush fires in Australia “A plague of despair cloaks the world”

A plague of despair cloaks the world entire
As across the land flash mighty fires
While high into the sky leap great flames from all about
Of this inferno there is no end in sight
The unbreathable air a stench of acrid smoke
The heavens an endless orange glow
An eternal sunset declaring the world to be ended
Myriad heroes valiant against the great red monster battle
As all across the vast scene most tragic
Its devastation it spews
Willingly their lives they spend their land to reclaim
Infinitesimal acts unseen of mercy flood the realm
Towards all life, human and animal
The grateful beneficiaries often the only witnesses
In the petrified animal kingdom
Singed and parched and so very alone
The trickle of water by their nameless saviour offered
A gift more precious than life itself to helpless creatures
The gift of selfless love with no expected recompense
The most excellent that this world can ever offer
And so with this the very best that humankind defines
Grow hope and prayers unstoppable
For the skies to open and their saving load to pour
The end to the fiery ordeal to bring
The nation with rest brief to bless
Before the birth of a new strength unstoppable
To recover and rebuild
d.a.simpson ©

#poem “Pinpricks of brilliant light seep through the taut domed firmament” a thought that came to me upon gazing at the stars. #WritingCommnunity

Pinpricks of brilliant light seep through the taut domed firmament
High above the realms of the earth below
Permanent scars of fierce battles waged in aeons long ago past
During the great wars between forces of rival worlds
Inflicted by mighty giants and warrior pirates fearless
That journeyed to this part of the galaxy
On a quest to stir up strife while prospecting for gold and bright sparkling gems
Borne from one end of the universe to another
By teams of fearless thoroughbred stallions
Speeding their masters upon chariots of thunder
Great bolts of lightning issuing from the turning and the grinding
Of their heavy wheels grating gainst the thick outer layer of skin
That stretches across the dark side of the sky facing away from the sun
Not once warmed through and softened by its rays
And never bathing in the gentle milky light of the moon
The wounded blue vault spreads out its punctured canopy
The wounds of the arrows and lances of the invading forces
The scorched holes from the thunderbolts
Turned to a thing of bespangled beauty the afflicted
All the battle wounds now badges of honour
d.a.simpson ©

Thoughts of mine “Bright lights glowing a million” #poem #poetry #WritingCommnunity

Bright lights glowing a million through the perforated indigo night sky
The vast firmament a great sheet sprinkled with sparkling stars
Spell out the epic tale of stoical victory over adversity cruel
Of ambush by unseen enemies from afar
A testament of heroic triumph in the face of a magnitude of suffering
A time of unimaginable cruelty and adversity torment and tribulation
Witnessed by a multitude of angelic heavenly hordes
Of a history as old as the renowned tale
Of the tragic fall of the earth and its inhabitants
From the state of very paradise of its beginnings
Now all perilously forgot by that very same wilful earthly race
As it slips lower and lower into an increasingly parlous state
Of misdeeds against its own self, its peoples and lands its seas and skies
The planets glisten brighter and brighter with dolour at each passing era
And now the cosmic death knell rings out its dread message across the universe
With every drear drum beat the galaxy of processing mourners weeps very tears of stars
As the funeral cortege wends its mournful way across the universe
The face of the sun turns a pale shade of lilac as it shrinks over the edge of the horizon
Surrounded by a blaze of red hot grief bathed in an aura of gold
That paints the celestial vault from end to end with a lustrous gilded halo Like an icon of the saintly face of sorrows
It will be an anxious vigil this long uncertain night of waiting and watching
Until the earth’s recovery and the birth of a bright new dawn
d.a.simpson ©

“The lonely cloud slips forlornly across the scene” words that came to me one recent day. #poem #vss365 #WritingCommunity #poetry #writersnetwork

The lonely cloud slips forlornly across the scene tasked with the weightiest of duties
For such an insubstantial soul as one pale fluffy looking floating irrigation system
Possessed of a quiet reflective spirit and preferring his own company
Most certainly opposed to the heinous notion
Of appearing all alone in full view of so very many pairs of eyes
Peering up at him from the earth below
All intently fixed upon the next move off the great players in the skies
The pieces placed strategically upon the vast games board in the firmament
A shy loner of a character
The cloud now felt a blush of embarrassment colour his normally pallid complexion
The humiliating sensation grew and grew until the cloud thought he would burst
Then to compound his misery lo and behold who should bounce onto the scene
Replete with his annoying vexatious joie de vivre
Beaming from ear to ear across that irksome bright shiny yellow face of his
But the great sunshine itself
Just as the cloud could endure his distress no longer
And he wished the sky would swoop down and swallow him up
He started to rain. Oh woe upon woe
He screwed up his face and wrung his hands in despair
As a collective gasp of delight issued forth from the crowd assembled below
And reached his forlorn spirit. He opened one timorous eye
To see the arrogant sun winking!Winking I ask you
And pointing to the most beautiful vision
A glorious multicoloured arch straddling the sky and the earth
A vast rainbow stretched right across the great vaulted dome from end to end
A sight whose delight was not even marred by the boastful glee
That glowed bright on the sunny faced disc
And a deep inner realisation grew within the cloud that his was his very own tears
That had caused the arc of many colours to appear to him in the midst of his despair
d.a.simpson ©

#WritingCommnunity #writersnetwork #poetry #poem #vss365 “Pale phantoms of the winter”

Pale phantoms of winter from the north
Ghostly warriors with hearts as cold as brute steel
Faces set like flint for the struggles ahead
Shoulders cloaked by rivers of white locks
Flowing out from beneath helmets of steel
Embossed with images recounting tales of past triumphs
Now upon their southbound voyage
on great longships
With huge figuregeads of dragons and snakes
Slice through the icy waters with oars
As hard as the hearts of the mariners aboard
Eyes of piercing white like the blue light Spread across a crystal clear northern sky
Blinded to suffering by exposure to the relentless snow and ice
Upon which they drive the packs of wolves dragging their sledges
They sail to storm the ramparts to the castles of the southern peoples
Armed with brute force and weaponry of cold steel
Sharpened on escarpments of bright white glaciers
And unremitting freezing northern winds
Drenched by deluges of rain
Onto the target island they swarm
Ruthless and merciless despite the plight and pleas
Of their defenseless victims
They roll out catastrophic devastation like a sea of ice
Their mission is soon achieved in a battle
Their unarmed enemies had not entered into
As they raze and pillage the land
They make off with the spoils of war
Looting the treasures of the vanquished
With no use for these themselves
Save for the thrill of the conquest
Before departing the theatre of the vandalised
kingdomwide
While the survivors of this criminal abomination
Destroyed by loss and grief
Are left to clear the realm littered with the remains of the senseless demolition
d.a.simpson

#WritingCommnunity #writersnetwork #poetry #poem “The bright light of the blazing midday sun”

The bright light of the blazing midday sun
Picks out a river of gleaming gold
As it snakes through
A patchwork of bare fields of bronze
Deep tractor track lines
Parade up and down the fields
In the perfect formation of military precision
The fiefdoms of their overlords to inspect
The bare dormant land now prepared
By the turning over and over of the soil
The route marches of future crops carved out
And the land rests awhile
In a deep slumber like a death
Inflicted with neither onsultation nor consrnt
For none are needed
For the great…in command of the seasons
His will can impose at a time convenient solely
While the land sings a lullaby as it slumbers
Of secrets known to none but to itself
From ages old
Of great droughts that sucked the life out of all food from the land
And the living creatures that depended upon the harvests of crops
And fires that scorched the earth leaving it infertile for many a generation
Famine and death
And a vanishing of an entire peoples
Of plagues of locusts and pests
Stripping the life out of the land
Floods that drowned the plants and living creatures
Earthquakes that rent the land beyond repair
Frosts that froze out all plant and animal life
Heatwaves that killed off all plants and animals
For these legends of old
Bring a comfort to the dormamt vernal earth
For in the recalling and the retelling
Of these histories
It mines the rich seam of gold
That is the secret wisdom of the great survivors
of the ages
That what is not destroyed is strengthened
And reinforced to rise again and prosper and flourish
Just as the seed that dies and splits
Before becoming a new thing creature greater form altogether of new abundant life
So it is with the dried up empty land
Now asleep but only for a time
d.a.simpson ©