Winter's End (poem)

Brisk breeze eases,
"Which leaves are left?"
Withered White wheezes,
"My life light 'til the death!"

Woodpeckers smack their faces.
Squirrels start hopping around.
Excitement melts in all places.
As the snow seeps into the ground.

The canopied carpet is wilting away.
And flowers are popping purple heads.
Life rejuvenated on a warm day.
Soon White leaves to beds.

Their story is traceable knowledge.
Soon to pass to the sprouts.
Even when education toward college...
will still be seeded with doubts.

Continuation is something on which we rely,
and we never truly know why.
We can take comfort in trying,
because recursion re-springs despite dying.

No, Snow (poem)

Stubborn swaying Snow,
falling faintly slow,
warm up! Unfreeze,
and let the water flow.

Silly slushy Snow,
your temper seems so low,
free those fractaled bonds,
and let the seedlings grow.

Simply stupid Snow,
you already know:
fear is cold and fruitless,
we'll reap when we can sow.

Echo (poem)

I have one face, and one alone.
And if my feelings appear like stone,
it is because they are
held together
by tar.

But if I could emote to you that you smelt it,
maybe you would realize you can melt it.

How can I hail thee across blank echos?
If all that you reply is ________.

Hail back to me and let me know
that you'd like to have conversation grow.

Poetry is as easy as water,
and here I throw it out like fodder.

Re-stimulate the nerves of my face,
smile, glide toward my embrace.