C R Clark Poems

Squirrel brushes corn
From my feeder to the ground
Young deer picks it up
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Ain’t camped once this year
Ain’t had a single campfire
Something’s wrong with that
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My wife keeps a feeder for her dear hummingbirds
Outside our window it hangs in the shade
Hummers refresh themselves sunup till dark
They sip and they slurp that red hummer kool aid
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From somewhere deep within my being
The shadow of desperation harbors doubt
And my usual optimism is shaken
But, I pray, it is still intact
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Icy crystals cling
Branches glimmer in the sun
Winter’s masterpiece
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A friend drew me aside one day
And, in me did confide
Of problems with a wayward Son
Such as he could scarce abide
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I had a dream and you were there
In lace, with flowers, in your hair
Your beauty shown and lit the place
A constant smile was on your face
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If I could paint a masterpiece
In portrait show my lady’s grace
As da Vinci in his finest hour
Attained in Mona Lisa’s face
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It’s just an old abandoned farmhouse
On a weedy, grown up moor
I suspect that it has stood there
For a century or more
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In the land of thermal waters, many moons ago
When streams in virgin forests, yet with crystal water flowed
Before the Europeans came from lands so far away
And vowed to conquer for their king, this new land they would claim
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