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Array
(
[sid] => 75463
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Park Creek
[time] => 2004-12-12 16:46:44
[hometext] => Dedicated to Cane Creek Park...
[bodytext] => I. The Lake Watchers A hawk's claw Out of rope Is made, Leaves sticking To the pavement Like leeches And the Lake watchers Have been paid. Pine needles, Shine beetles, Initials signatured In a tree; A brave boy attempts A tightrope on a foot-bridge Like it were A balance beam. II. The Park Creek Old trees Are fallen A golden leaf Hangs on A spider's string; The spider is crawlin' Barnacles And moss grow On the stumps, Heart-leaves And styrofoam cups. Long, narrow Puddles Of freshly Fallen rain. The grassland Is where the dragonfly Makes its home. The sound of Fish on water, making their Prescence known. I've made Two lizard Sightings, Each was Split-second Exciting. Grand-daddy Long-legs Makes its way through the Muddy terrain, The ground has Been made soft for him by the Summer rain. A boat sits Idle at the lake's Center, Only doing this By the lake's gracious Temper. Trees in their Many diverse Strange shapes, Must be Admiring the view Of the lake. Roots of an Oak surround the the red, Park bench, Joggers pace Their steady path Every inch. Two fishermen Sit on folding Chairs, To lessen Their worries and Their cares. Magenta horizon Blends the sky with a Gentle hue, The trail of The geese in the water reflects A stark blue. Ducks are Scattered on the Lake, Night things are Ready to cease their slumber and Awake. At dusk the Whispering willow Weeps, I try to Catch a firefly that is Out of reach. III. The Lake is Watching Us Don't need Your poison Sumac in My quiet Forest, You can Be the Gunner to The battle-ladden Florist. You're a Crazy conk-shell, Were you there When the Imperial tree fell? I'm feeling like The beginning of Light has reached Its apex, And soon The sun's Nomadic wanderings Will be favoring The gray necks. I don't know What I aim To phrase Its in their Sacred fields The sun children graze, A grain of silver And a touch of faerie haze Might free me from My secular ways. We're watching all the lake So that its will Is that to stay imprisoned, I think the lake is Watching all of you So that it can eavesdrop And every word you say it listens. A calf made of Gravel and mud Is chained Above the dam, It doesn't Weigh much More than A lamb. (And) the Gulleys gushing Babies coddling Whisping willows In the wind, Mechanical men Fight with metal skin Water monsters With wooden castles to defend. When you've Got a good thing going Never let it go, You could spend eternity Showing where the Creek winds have blown. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 223 [topic] => 27 [informant] => Lee [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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