The Surfer

Oh, Jon:  he owns that blue green tunnel’s sway
before bold nature casts him from the sea.
He’s god and for a moment has his way.
What man resists such magic brevity?
The moment flows and swift the water flies.
Around such power one might turn away
but surfers are committed as they ride
momentum’s wave.  There is no turning back
from beauty of the sea’s bold shining glanceWarren Wave
a heavy hand that turns the mighty wave.
There’s climax and a mystery’s romance
for man who will forever be its slave.
Acceptance gives the surf its final spin
as glorious as when that dance begins.

“Waiting For the Morn”

seagulls-flying-26933029“Waiting for the Morn”

Morning lifts
my dark curtain of night;
sea-gulled and wing’ed;
warm satin bright.
She’ll scatter the dust
of a billion stars
grace sweeping the universe
here to Mars.

Copyright, Jacqueline Casey, 2012.  All Rights Reserved.

The Rescue of Dryopteris


“The Rescue of Dryopteris”

An afterthought, I took
broken pot
and held her. Barely does she sigh.

Partially dead, I shook
what was not
held deeply in her branches dry.

“Still a trace of life’s green”
she whispered,
faintly audible to my ears.

Water-misted her clean;
tear drops heard
as she began to shed her fears.

Dryopteris, she screams
and she sings!
Her leaves are reaching for the sky.

And then my garden beams
returns that love back to her eyes.

Tri-fall Poem- abc,abc- 638/638