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POETRY BY AMEASHA BROWN
From Sullivan's Short Stories
Nature's Offspring
I walked down the path, carpeted with autumn leaves.
Suddenly I was wrapped by a cool, crisp breeze.
The smell of the third season filtering through
the air
With the trees shedding their dressing, with colors
oh so rare.
I passed an old chipmunk storing his provisions
away
So he could eat in pleasure on a faraway spring
day.
As I rested awhile on an old tree stump,
I was suddenly alarmed by a hard, loud thump.
I slowly looked behind me, and what did I see,
But a bossy, bold jackrabbit marking his territory.
In the trees above me, on the branches bare,
Two squirrels huddled together, finding comfort
there.
With all the woodland creatures scurrying to and
fro,
And the wondrous life of nature pulsating its warm
glow.
Mother Nature teaches her offspring with the closing
of their eyes.
She spreads her white, cold blanket and covers all
that dies.
For soon winter would be upon them, for death would
bring rebirth.
And again this precious cycle would revolve around our Mother Earth.
Ameasha Brown
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Firside Imagery
I sat and watched the fire dancing in the hearth.
With each snap and crackle, flickering flames, I watched their new found birth.
As I felt the warmth caress me, I felt safe within it's charm.
But to touch oh so lovingly would have caused me great harm.
So I sat and watched with wonder as the flames slowly died
and I threw another log on just to see the flames rise higher.
I laid on the rug in front of the fireplace dreamy and content,
I closed my eyes and pictured the tree from which I smelled the scent.
A cherry tree with blossoms full, soon ripe with fruit to eat.
In my mind I bit into the fruity flesh, and savored oh so sweet.
I threw another log on with undivided care.
So many images danced through my mind, as I huddled there.
Ameasha Brown
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Summer Time
I look out yonder with Summer lust,
To plant a garden, this is a must.
To watch the birds and butterflies,
And soft, white clouds a rolling by.
The summer time is not long enough,
To let me do all my stuff.
Like paint a mural of fields and flowers,
And sit with my forest friends for hours.
The warm summer evenings, the calm summer breeze,
As I watch the birds playing in the trees.
I sit very still and I close my eyes,
I can hear the bees buzzing near their hives.
Summer is my favorite of all the seasons,
And I have mentioned all the reasons.
I sit proudly and watch my garden grow stronger.
So if Mother Nature is listening, could you make summer longer?
Ameasha Brown
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