In the deep woods
Whispered voices speak
Of past summers
And joyous days
In sun dappled warmth

Chilled days stealing leaves
As Winter calls to fall
Grip the earth, still warm
With roots of ages past
Few will visit these barrens

So we will sleep in silence
Wrapped in snowy days
The quiet of winter comes
Now rest on hidden trails
Awaiting spring and the coming sun

Stoic Poetry


Autumn Dawn

Clouds of lace full of grace
Drift in the Autumns sky
Chilling air drifting there
Watching as they pass by

Seasons pass as nothing lasts
As is the way of things
No questions here left to ask
Observing the birds that sing

Sitting here in the early chill
Peaceful quiet and thought
Creeping smiles upon this face
In joy this morning has brought

Stoic Poetry

Days Of Summer

Summer days are passing by
Autumns creep; the blink of an eye
Cooler days bring the rains
Never the one to complain

Crisp walks among the leaves
Forest paths as the earth heaves
Sitting writing on the forest floor
No one could ever ask for more

Stoic Poetry

Sense Of Autumn

Sighs of the fading summer
Give way to fresh mornings
Shorter days have arrived
Stars still clear in later dawn’s

Days of flaming painted leaves
Along babbling brook banks
Fall harvests reaped, gathered
As the light hearted give thanks

Stoic Poetry

Summer Daze

Sweet blooms and colour, hot sun overhead
Face turned skyward, embrace nature’s gift
Long days of bounty, since winter has fled 
Heedless, careless, forgetful of winters rift

No thought of seasons beyond a perfect day
No one telling us of things that must be done 
Time without bearing, holds cold days at bay                                                        
Too late now we realise, summer is undone

Stoic Poetry


Winters tears fall fallow on the sleeping
Soft emotion into dormant hearts creeping
Thoughts to awaken, needs forgotten too long
Reach for the unknown want, new and strong

Push forth from cold dark slumbered sleep
The dawn of wonder, a promise made to keep
Our lives forsaken in winters gathering sweep
In joy emerge, to the sun we kneel and weep

Stoic Poetry