Beauty Dallies Not

The colors of summer flowers,
Lush reds, brilliant yellows, subtle lavenders,
Reach their zenith early —
For just a moment —
And from those lofty heights
Begins their relentless decline.

As August rounds the bend
And gallops toward the finish line,
Petals droop and shrivel…and drop,
And once vibrant hues fade non-stop.

Yet even in this cruel effacement
Lingers there an echo of glory past,
As in the ravaged faces of the old
Remains there a hint of youth steadfast.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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Why Do the Leaves Linger On?

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Why do the leaves linger on,
Braving the wind — winter’s song?

Tenacious, they cling to the branch,
Desperate that age will not advance.

The rest, long since fallen to their grave,
While these remain, dogged and brave.

But the cloak of night draws ’round,
And the leaves shiver at every sound.

So why do the leaves linger on,
Braving the wind — winter’s song?

Hope — hope to see another spring dawn,
Hope to gaze upon a new-born fawn.

All Poetry – Henry Barnard

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The Joke’s on Us

If there is a god,

She’s a practical joker.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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Mere Footprints

Footprints in snow –
Those who have gone before me.
Now my footprints –
For those who come after.

Generation after generation,
Footprints in snow…
Mere footprints.

But, with time’s melting,
Even this memory erased,
Generation after generation.

So to what end…
These footprints?

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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Transcendence

That kind of dream —
You somehow know how to levitate.
Magically and wonderfully,
Just lift off the ground,
While peering down upon hapless mortals
Struggling to make their way.

An intoxicating sense of freedom –
In the air, no restraints…boundaries no more.
Daily cares long forgotten,
And you, an eagle, soar
A crescendo in a symphony.

Then, intensity breaks the spell.
You awaken…to lingering darkness
And feeble light from the window —
Icarus falls back to reality.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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Welcome to Humanity

We all experience it — you cannot speak.
Something deep inside acts up,
And will not be denied.

You have this choking sensation
Like something stuck – burning — in the throat.

You must wait for it to pass
Before you can speak again.
An emotion so raw and primitive it paralyzes.

Sorrow, sadness, despair —
All weeping together…
A dam of emotion let loose.

It’s humanity’s response to personal tragedy
When the only possible response…
Letting go your emotions;
Letting those wild horses run free.

Welcome to humanity.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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Timing Us

The sea laps upon the shore
Little waves are no more.
While time winds its wily way,
We are only made of clay.

Life? Life a gift unique,
But over in a blink.
Our prospects, very bleak, sink,
As the waves galore
Continue on ever more.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

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November Rose

You see one now and then –
A November rose with all its pedals still blazing in full glory.
It stands out against the dank and dreary ground
Stark as a beacon in the night.
It’s nature’s graceful last hurrah
Against the rising tide of time.
So, if you happen to chance upon one,
Tarry a while, and gaze upon its splendor
To appreciate the fleeting tragedy
Of this delicate, tremulous last stand,
For it is not unlike your own.

All Poetry — Henry Barnard

Sepia Flowers

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