
Bluebells are ringing
while the trees hum silently
Grasses are singing
Copyright Francis 2022
Bluebells are ringing
while the trees hum silently
Grasses are singing
Copyright Francis 2022
Who can see the wind?
Yet in deference trees bend
Still you deny God
Copyright Francis 2022
Birdsongs presage spring
as I walk through frosted trees –
the frigid moon greets
Copyright Francis 2022
A riverside pause
Peace found by this constant flow
My time to move on
Copyright Francis 2022
Oak-seers’ footsteps
hid by winter’s frozen shawl –
Whispers on cold winds
Copyright Francis 2022
Wandering deserts
No one misses mesa stumps
Truth like lightening bolts
Copyright Francis 2022
The leaves have vanished
Winter’s left his calling card
The spirit renews
Copyright Francis 2021
The shaman’s spirit
abroad, deep in winter’s woods;
speaks in runic tongues
Copyright Francis 2021
The day snow returned,
buds showing on the blackthorn —
chilblains on my toes
Copyright Francis 2021
Walking winter woods,
a muntjac’s prints
lead the way ahead —
a twig breaks
*(This still conforms to seventeen syllables but in a four line format)
Copyrigh Francis 2021