A moon lit night \ version 2

A full moon penetrates this cool November night.
Its' light whispers  through  naked trees 
and  caress the cold brown earth.
I   feel the ever present Appalachian silhouette resting
in a peaceful familiar  posture Tranquility has engaged
another evening and friends that graze this fertile land lay quietly hearing the darkness call.
A grateful sun has gone to rest and the timbers that shared
their shade slowly close their lights  as the wind stirs a blanket of autumn colored leaves.
A door creeks, two whispers pass hurriedly to find a warm embrace
and at a distance there is  a howling swell of  city sounds,
thankfully  still too far away to break this evening's song.

Dreams

Whispers in my heart awake as my eyes weigh heavy,
Endless roads   search eternally for a way to go.
Are you just my  companion
or a light to show me truth
Are you just one entwined of many
Do you have them too.
Can I hold you dearly  until darkness turns a brighter blue 
or will you vanish suddenly in my darkest hue.

Starlight at Hawthorne Valley Farm

A full moon penetrates this cool November night.
Its'  light whispers  through the naked tree  branches.
as the moon glow caress the cold brown earth.
In the distance I feel the ever present Appalachian silhouette 
resting  in her peaceful familiar  posture.
Tranquility has engaged another evening  and friends that
graze on this fertile land  lay quietly hearing the evenings song. 
A grateful sun has gone to rest and the timbers that shared their shade slowly close their lights one on one.
The wind stirs a blanket of brown crumbling leaves, a door creeks,
two whispers pass hurriedly to find a warm embrace and  at a distance there is  a howling swell of  city sounds, thankfully   still too far away to break this evening's song,

Primavera

sometimes days don't belong to us

Enrique Chiriboga Villaquiran 11.17.10

sometimes days belong to the wind
sometimes days are toys we master and enjoy
sometimes days slip away while we lay in our bed
sometimes days are beginnings and
sometimes days are  ends
sometimes days are winters and
sometimes days are spring.




Rest in peace   Tata  Enrique