NATURE'S MUSIC

Mother Nature

She sings to me when the moon is high
and I feel her touch when the wind goes by
and I know she’s there when the stars come out.
She is heaven, she is earth, she’s what life’s about.

Wake-up Call

Rooster crows at break of dawn
to herald a new day.
Coffee’s brewing in the pot
to get me on my way.

Sun is rising bright and gold
to light the way to see
all the gifts that God designed,
and offers lovingly.

Daffodils

The daffodils are open wide
to let the Spring time sun inside.
They bring the best of April’s flair
and spread their beauty everywhere.

Cacophony

Clamor of large black crows
cawing, cawing, cawing,
wakes me before dawn.

I stretch and wiggle toes,
stomach gnawing, gnawing
from supper long gone.

In kitchen, coffee brews
with its drip, drip, dripping
adding to the tune.

As I read morning news,
time is slip, slip, slipping
way past afternoon

on a cawing, gnawing,
drip, dripping, slip, slipping
noisy day in June.

Tempo

Spring beats
to the rhythm of rain
and the drip, drip, dripping
of time…

Night Rhythms

In midnight shade
the creatures cry
and wait to hear
their mates reply
and I enjoy their symphony
complete with rhythm and harmony.


© 2004 Susan Maree Jeavons

The following pieces are on the topic of rivers,
one of my favorite things.

River Dreams

Written on Thursday, June 28, 2007

I close my eyes and picture it. It’s small, but not too small. Just big enough for one person, and maybe a guest now and then. The sidewalk, made of flat stones that I hauled from the river, is lined with Forget-me-nots, Sun Drops, Phlox, Black-eyed-Susan, and Hosta. An arbor leads to the porch,
and is covered with Jackmani Clematis.

The cabin roof is tin, and the oak swing, perfect for rainy day naps, or writing. Rocking chairs invite the occasional guest to sit and sip a cup of coffee, or a glass of sweet-iced tea. Morning glories climb a trellis on the wrap-around-porch, and reflect the colors of the Blue Ridge Mountains where I was born. The view is spectacular as the Ravenfork, tucked in between these foothills, rushes across granite boulders. Sometimes, a Kingfisher or a Heron keeps me company, dipping and diving into the river to catch a fresh meal. At night, the Barred Owls and Whippoorwills vie for my attention. The smell of wild honeysuckle permeates the air with a memory of a rare pleasure from my childhood.

Inside the cabin, I can feel the coziness as soon as I enter the scalloped-edged screen door. There’s an old-fashioned sink, and a large tin tub hanging on the wall beside it. There are porcelain dippers hanging above the sink, the same kind Grandma used to dip ice cold water from the well so long ago. In one corner sits a potbellied stove, used to heat the cabin and to cook on. An opposite wall is lined with book shelves that hold my favorite things, antiques, family photos, and of course, lots of books. A computer, my only link to the outside world, is tucked away in an antique oak roll top desk.

The bedroom holds an antique bed, a steamer trunk made of oak, a rocking chair, and a small bedside desk. Roses and Queen Anne’s lace adorn the room with a simple elegance. The bathroom/laundry room is small, but has all the modern amenities. The barn-planked walls are decorated with antique washboards, soap ads, and objects that I have collected along the river.

This is the place that I have waited all my life for. A place where nature and I can communicate in perfect harmony. A place time has passed by. A place where poets and hermits can thrive, and someday, die happy...

River Haiku #1

Cool, crystal water
whispering ancient secrets
stirring memories…

River Haiku #2

Here at the river
I am a child again,
full of wonder and awe…

River’s Reign

When I am not near her,
I hear her song,
the boisterous beat
of her intimate poetry
pounding in my brain…

Written on 10/28/2004 @ 7:10 AM

Meet Me At The River

Meet me at the river.
Oh Lord that’s where I’ll be.
Meet me at the river
and we’ll have a jubilee.
We’ll dance by the water.
We’ll sing a heavenly song.
Meet me at the river.
We’ll rejoice all day long.

Written April 20th, 2005 Harpersfield Covered Bridge

One last river poem for now:

Rhythms

My heart beats in rhyme
with the rhythm of the river,
the restless rolling rhythm of time…

Written on 10/28/2004 @ 9:46 AM

When you are feeling a need to escape, go to the river. There you will find joy and serenity...

All Poems on this site are
© 1995-© 2007 Susan Maree Jeavons-All Rights Reserved.
Works placed on the Internet are to be treated
the same as if they were in a book.
You must ask the author for permission
to use their work or to place it on another web site.

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