Albert Timper Poems

Silver Maple buds are dark,

Reddish, trimmed in white,
...

Roll modeling is key for some,
Declaring we are all the same,
Individualism is the natural one,
Being yourself is not a shame;
...

You told me your story,
It needs to be sown,
She planted a seed,
It has overgrown,
...

Silver maple icicles are forming a new,
The month of March has come too,
Fashioned on branches hanging low,
Over Long Island Channel they will grow,
...

An old deer stand ladder haunts the forest,
Waiting for a naturalist to remove it,
Waiting for a hunter to rebuild it,
The deer trails still pass by it,
...

An inanimate thing,
Man side steps blame,
Man's innate shame,
For sinister deeds,
...

Beware of haters,
They hate because they care,
They tend to group,
They need to share;
...

There is a dance growing on the forest floor,

A hemlock and yellow birch entangled ever-more,
...

Invisible travelers are rushing by,

They brush my face as they fly,
...