Leih's Poems Written from the Window View

 

Window View

Winter Snowstorms

 

 

 

Wintry snowfalls blasted on the ground,

Though it exploded shifting the scenes,

Snowfalls plumbed to wee amounts,

But even frail flakes added up to cumbrous means,

The hailing storm blew up to beamy deal,

While westerly winds moaned gusty falling tunes,

The southerly blows sung shattering poems,

Like the whipped blend trying times stir,

When thorny life stages bites us in the cold,

The nip in the air pains us to the fleshy core,

But as long as we scrape off the muck,

And as far as we shovel out the snowfalls,

Tomorrow you’ll whisk to a pure, cleanly part,

A spotless site that which is out of the dark hole.

Tis Not the End . . . But You to Take a Stand

 

 

 

Arid lots out at the yard voiced aloud,

Tis not the despairing end of pestilent rainstorms,

And in my mind I pondered if I understood,

Then the parched land pronounced hopeful days would come,

When fresh rainwater will restore perished earth,

And those that lost their lives and dropped to vapid stares,

Theirs will not end despairingly but be displaced within term,

Because a settled end is up for you to take a stand.

Sunrise

Sunrise

 

 

 

When the sun rose halfway,

Its core emitted blushing orange dyes,

Washing trails of the husky, blue sky,

And in the midst of its able uprise,

The morning rise awakened the easeful set to rest,

Waving me to burst upon and rush forth my day,

Like a nestled, lying fossil set to shed alight,

A splatter of rain dropped down to my face,

Swaying me to move my day’s byplay.

Blue Sky

The Heavens:  My Morrow

 

 

 

The heavens beamed with laughter,

After a stretch of strapped tenure,

I watched as I lied bundled in leisure,

And the blue sky’s postcard basked a picture,

So I jutted like hues on the eve of my spectacle,

My morrow should shed that starry cope,

So that I can tickle in the same laughter.

 

I Saw Fit That I Take Air

 

 

 

A wisp of gray fog darkened the sky,

Sailing across the gray scene which blurs,

As it flit across streaming the bleary canvas,

I saw fit that I take to the air,

Leave the ground to climb up and glide,

Not as a soaring eagle but a pilot,

Take wing and bask as I think fit,

I saw fit that I take to the air.