Dear Fellow Females:
Celebrate yourselves today,
tomorrow, every day!
Stand strong, be brave, promote persistence, purpose.
Without you, your will, your abilities, your strength
humanity cannot continue to exist.
I salute you!

Mom loved Shetland ponies.
not so much the stocky, chubby ones,
the fancy show ponies.
We had so many, I’ve lost count–
black, pinto, dappled grey with silver
mane and tail–the fanciest one.
Midget, a pinto, was the first one.
They bought her so I could learn to ride.
I was six.
At the country fair, I rode her.
She zigged; I zagged, fell off.
Utter humiliation.
On rainy days my sister and I would
put a few in the barn, dress them up,
play games with them,
living toys.
We even rode them when in high school
along the cornfields, across the terraces.
My last memory–riding, ambling along, not paying attention,
suddenly lots of noise in the cornfield,
an animal running through the cornstalks.
Pony bolted; I jumped, landed wrong,
limped for days at school, climbing
up and down the steps.
Did I ride again?
I don’t think so, not for years and
then I rode horses.
No wind, stringy high clouds block a bit of blue.
Someone bounces a ball next door,
I hear the intermittent sound.
Suddenly several dogs bark across the golf course green,
Suddenly stop.
Across the turquoise pool water burnt orange leaves waft downward,
some land on the pale gold rocks,
some float at the pool’s terracotta edge,
others lay across the dark green rosemary bushes.
Bird song I cannot identify fills the background.
Two men, voices loud, banter –they’re neighbors, friends.
One of their small children cries, stops, cries again.
A late day golfer strides a ball, shouts.
Breeze arises, quits, more leaves fall,
the pool and birdbath water slightly ripple.
The lemons glow against the dark green leaves,
a painting emerald and bright yellow.
I sit beside the African multi-colored granite table my son made,
admire the colors:
-succulents called fire sticks match the falling leaves.
shades of orange, red, and green.
-the pots that house them match the dark blue of the pool’s old fashioned
Mexican tile.
-roses still display a few blossoms, dark red, pale pink, peach.
Tomorrow the gardener will trim them back to help them bloom lushly n spring.
-the oleander, still green, quit blooming weeks ago.
-rosemary loves this time of year, covers itself with tiny, fragrant, grey-blue flowers.
-in the distance mountains arise, a purple haze.
Now, no sounds, only silence.
I sit in the quiet beauty, write, drink green tea, feel grateful.
An “exercise” to write a poem about ones origins with the words I am from… inspired me to write this poem.
I am from the dark side of the moon, blood born, secretly shining.
Fuerte
I am from puma, stalking your memories, invading your minds,.
Fuerte
I am from Gottlieb, who left Swiss mountains 150 years ago at 18 to avoid
becoming a mercenary, moved to Missouri, created a farm. His cultivator
sets in my front garden.
Fuerte
I am from persons Gujarati, Bengali, Punjabi, who sailed seas, met strangers, loved.
Fuerte
I am from Esan, a Nigerian tribe about which I knew nothing until a DNA test revealed,
ancient, black, beautiful.
Fuerte
I am from Latin America, Colombian, Peruvian, Puerto Rican–wanderers, explorers.
Fuerte
I am from Slavic peoples. Byzantine, Macedonian, Alexander the Great.
Fuerte
I am from brave wandering ancestors–Asian, Latin, Toscani Italian, French, German, Swiss, Slavic, Iberian.
Fuerte
I am from J haploid group, people who left the northern Middle East 7000 years ago,
wandered, explored, populated Western Europe.
Fuerte
I am from farmers, Doyle and Barbara, who grew corn, wheat, soybeans, Hereford and Charolaise cattle
to whom I carried salt blocks as a child.
Fuerte
I am from Sacred Corn, the nourisher, singing on hot summers, growing.
Fuerte
I am from the sweet smell of Jasmine, Roses, Honeysuckle, winding up walls, overgrowing gardens,
giving people hope.
Fuerte
I am from lemons, figs, dates, pomegranates, golden, dark, red, tropical, lingering.
Fuerte
I am from Stars, universal child, born on sacred ground, singing infinite songs.
Fuerte
Hunkered down with two pillows–“Safe Place”??
Check TV to track tornadoes
It quits
Try to read, can’t
TV returns, tells me maybe safe
Tornados went east a few miles
Next day tan fog–dust
Wind, can’t stand up
Then spring, 76 degrees, birds sing,
sit on patio, sip tea.
Next morning, blizzard, wind roars,
no electricity, white out,
read by flashlight.
Electricity returns.
Thankful!
Searching for cool
Slithering, hunting
Transforming
Give me the long view
the endless space,
let my bones gleam white
beneath a desert willow
where a diamondback seeks shade.
Let me walk through red rock, climb to eternity,
stretch arms into the azure, crystalline air,
laugh out loud.
Give me the long view,
let me laugh out loud,
look down the Kaibab
Plateau into eternity.
Let me sing songs to emptiness,
to stark, open, free,
dance in sun, moonlight,
laugh out loud.
Give me the long view.
In the beginning of the world
nature provided.
Poachers, factories, deforestation,
We abuse nature.
Nature now has too much to carry,
Greed, selfishness, money.
Nature is being destroyed.
We are the ones who have destroyed.
If we continue,
then no one knows what the future will hold.
Luke Mason
All the birds are chirping.
The dogs are barking.
The leaves are falling.
The deer are eating.
As we lay here
in these oakwood desks
Learning!
Animals get to relax
and eat.
While we learn and
work.
WHY!
Ellwood Jennings.
The sun,
The moon,
The animals.
This is nature.
When the sun goes down
the moon comes out.
Animals howl, bellow and bark.
They are all part of
the animal kingdom.
This is nature.
Brooke Madill
Here is the next set:
The Beauty of Nature
Nature is everywhere
It teaches you how to share,
God created nature
With beauty you can always capture,
Without it there will be no peace
Everywhere will soon cease,
Nature includes some of the biggest animals
Like the awesome looking camel,
Nature has everything from Willow Trees
All the way down to bumblebees,
Nature is everywhere.
Jaci Allen
life vs. nature
spring, summer
winter, fall
these are the seasons of the year
nature’s crazy
nature’s fun
nature has something for everyone
it can be scary
not so sweet
life’s like nature scary and fun
when times are tough rivers run
we may cry laugh and smile
life’s emotions drive me wild
Jordin Arnaud
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