Words are the chosen tools of Mankind.
Autumn’s Sun
by Hugh A Tague
Autumn’s sun shines bright by day
warming the ground where fallen leaves lay.
As if Mother Nature had to sneeze
a strong wind blew the color from the trees.
Nighttime arrived with a clear star filled sky
sound asleep under a warm blanket we lie.
Jack Frost’s breath fell gently upon the ground
kissing the once green fields turning them brown.
Journey For Life
by Hugh A Tague
Bursting forth from an earthbound pod
finding freedom in the late Autumn wind
adrift high above the mountain’s side
through treetops on currents of air it rides.
The winds deflected by the canopy of limbs
sending the little seed twisting and turning
the fluffy white flyer’s adventure now unsure
as it falls gently toward the forest floor.
Fall of The Sumac Phoenix
by Hugh A Tague
Helios’ sun no longer reigns supreme
as Autumn’s sky begins to cool and gray
Hephaestus loads his brush in nature’s forge
painting each of the bird’s feathers with fire
wings stretched, the sumac looks skyward
milkweed burst in puffs of white smoke
and the phoenix is consumed by winter
until Boreas’ takes his last frosty breath
with Spring’s gentle touch, comes resurrection.
by Hugh A Tague
I see Autumn’s brilliant colors are all but gone,
Summer’s sweet song has long been sung.
Short days followed by endless cold nights,
brown forest and fields are now Winter’s delight.
I see a bear walking about curious and free,
no more long Summer’s naps, in the shade of a tree.
She now searches for a safe and suitable den,
so her and her cubs, can sleep until Winter’s end.
I see squirrels abandon their tree-top penthouse suites,
storing nuts underground, or in the hollow of a tree.
Needing food aplenty, they will not sleep Winter away,
even on the snowiest days, the squirrels frolic and play.
Late Summer Storm
The long warm Summer’s day
now begins to cool and fade
nighttime creeps into the day’s light
Winter’s reign of darkness now in sight.
Trees are the first as if prearranged
recognizing Mother Nature’s subtle change
denying life giving essence to branches and limbs
storing all its nourishment deep down within
soon they will enjoy a long winter’s sleep
a lasting silence but for an occasional crack or creek.
“The Feathery First Mate”
(QUATRAIN) In first person
by Hugh A Tague
Gliding high on a warm ocean breeze.
Over white sands beaches and bright blue seas.
Or perched way up high in a coconut tree.
That’s just a few places that I like to be.
From my crown to my tail and on both my wings
Color abounds, red, blue, yellow, and green.
when pirates came to visit me in my tree,
The captain of the ship took a fancy to me.
Winter
The silent, and unforgiving boreal descends
Upon tawny fields and umber forests.
Snowflakes glisten with hues of periwinkle.
Endless night’s moon sires ice crystal’s twinkle.
On this special Summer Solstice day
the great sun keeps the night at bay
but still the moon comes out to play
alongside the sun’s life giving rays.
Rejoice and bask in the extended heat
forever mother nighttime can not sleep
her promise to us all she must keep
into the daytime the night shall creep.
Peeling Away Winter’s Mask
By Hugh A Tague
The pure polar blanket of alabaster
that once lay at the feet of sleeping trees
no longer reflects the faint day’s light
from barren skies of grey.
Vanquished from the surface,
transformed into liquid tinder,
fueling the inferno of rebirth overhead.
The lake’s opaque tempered shell
falls victim to longer days of Spring.
Solar rays peel back Winter’s mask
from the great mirror’s face,
once again allowing Mother Nature’s image
to rebound into the heavens.
I am but a single bard, standing in awe
as the muse of the cosmos whispers
gently in my ear; inspiring my voice,
empowering my pen, painting my soul
with respect; a respect of this place
here and now, this beautiful place,
adrift among the stars.
Jack Frost’s Storm
by Hugh A Tague
A white birch bows to Jack’s command
laden with ice upon each limb and branch
all of Summer’s color, his magic blanched
silent, it’s burden held within a frozen trance
Nearby an old willow stands up straight
once flowing branches completely encased
Her limbs pulled to the ground from the weight
Summer sleeps under a canopy of crystal drapes.
The landscape has become unknown
locked in place with tools of ice and snow
a tranquil wonderland only he could sow
Jack Frost’s Storm, a spectacle to behold.
by Hugh A Tague, 俳句ヒュー ©
laden boughs
Winter’s white dress coat
decadence
ラディン枝
冬の白いドレスコート
デカダンス
Italian
ramo Laden
Abito bianco mantello invernale
decadenza
Laden branch
White dress coat winter
Decadence
French
Laden branche
Robe blanche manteau d’hiver
décadence
Laden branch
White dress winter coat
decadence
The day’s radiant sunshine gives them life
a clear cloudless blue sky grants full access
white crystals begins to glisten then flow
thawing them from the rooftop’s stock of snow.
Droplets of water ride down the steep pitch
slowing as each falls over the ice edge
racing toward the cold snow covered ground
these lucid travelers polar air now surround.
Gravity draws their essence to the earth
cold tempered their form is compromised
riding the surface of those that came before
and still they are pulled toward the forest floor.
Winter hands down its sentence onto me
confined by the warmth inside my home
cabin fever is driving me insane
bars of ice now my prison’s window pane.
Droplets of water ride down the steep pitch
the day’s radiant sunshine gives them life
racing toward the cold snow covered ground
these lucid travelers polar air now surround.
by 俳句ヒュー
(Haiku Hugh)
Art work;
Hiroshige, Shrines in Snowy Mountains
by Utagawa Hiroshige 歌川 広重
Winter’s Barren Beach
by Hugh A Tague
Winter has come again
and nothing is quite the same
the sun has all but gone
and the skies are always gray.
Jack Frost’s snow
has enveloped the barren beach
his ferocious wind
whipped up the stormy sea.
Still it’s really quite beautiful
in its own way
each of nature’s seasons
must be given its own day.
Soon the Summer’s sun
shall warm the shore again
the beach no longer barren
it shall fill with family and friends.
enveloped tree limbs
ice cold deciduous treat
powder coated art
eye candy in dawn’s daylight
blizzard made throughout the night
Who boldly trespass in the dark of night,
leaving only etchings for me to see?
Eluding detection, hidden from sight,
truly clever intruders they must be.
Gravity to them simply does not apply,
frolicking about on my sideways pane.
Is it magic? Or perhaps they can fly?
Ah yes! Flight is the secret of their reign.
Visions of whimsy, my mind’s eye beholds.
Dancing and skating upon my window’s ice.
Seemingly boundless, thriving in the cold;
who’s impressions vanish with the new day’s light.
As I sleep, they flutter about my home.
I take solace, in that I’m not all alone.
~Hugh A Tague
Hugh A Tague's Poetry & Prose 