Where the Trail Stops

Where the Trail Stops
by Bay Sweetwater

Where the trail stops in a stand of pines and birches,
and the breeze hurries home in the darkening afternoon,
there lies a lost and frozen lake,
framed by holly and persimmon trees.

A fallen tree limb makes a bench, I settle
and gaze at twilight dressing for the evening
in a gown of silver, ribboned in pink and blue,
waiting for her escort in the chariot of Selene.

Sudden as lightning, a crack fractures the lake,
so swift and dark and silent, you could miss it,
if you did not love this lake as much as I.
The leaden sky presses low and scatters snow.

(Photographed in A Dream of Snow sim, Second Life)

Autumn poems and pumpkin chai

Pumpkin chai with your autumn poem

Here are my autumn poems. I admit it – I’m an autumn junkie. I love the falling leaves, a bit of sadness, hot cider, deep shadows, evening fires, long walks in the woods. All my autumn poems are in this category of my blog: Poems, Autumn

To get you in the mood for autumn poems, see my video below of a midnight walk through falling leaves in the virtual world of Second Life, and a recipe for pumpkin chai to keep away the autumn chill (recipe and pic from Club Dine-In).

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I’ll Fly With Wild Pelicans

In a marsh near where I live, wild white pelicans come to roost. Their visits are almost magical, and never predictable. They are there one day and gone the next. I happened upon them a couple weeks ago. When I went back to see them the next day, sure enough, they were gone. They always fill me with awe and longing. Here’s a picture of them and a poem I wrote while watching them.


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What is it that we love, when we love an avatar?

Second Love

by Bay Sweetwater

What is it that we love, when we love an avatar?
Why is one star brighter than any other star?
What sets our heart aflutter when that one comes online,
And keeps us by the keyboard, waiting for a sign? 

It’s not the skin or anims, or all the fancy clothes.
These are bought in stores, as everybody knows.
It’s not the mystery scrivener who sits behind the screen.
Him (or her?) we barely know; we’ve often never seen.

I think it is the wordless soul, who beguiles as it dances,
Embodied in an avatar, whose mesmerizing glances,
Engulfs us in fond dreams this morning yet undreamed of,
Launching our small heart upon the boundless sea of love.

They say that eyes are windows that open on the soul,
That by gazing in the eyes, the inner lands behold;
Likewise, I think an avatar can be a sort of peephole,
Through which the heart can look, to spy upon the soul.

Summer’s Heart Lives in the Sunflower Patch

Summer’s Heart Lives in the Sunflower Patch
By Bay Sweetwater

Summer’s heart lives in the sunflower patch
Who hang about in my backyard and giggle
Like clusters of teenage girls crowding
Up against the fence, peeking over the top
For a split second, then ducking down
Hands over their mouths, stifling shrieks of laughter
As the boys go by on the other side.

Shipwreck Moon, my poem about a blue moon (or two)

Last night I went out near midnight in RL to look at the blue moon over California.

Then I came inside and looked at it in SL over the Farhaven Isles.

Here’s the poem that came out.

Conversation with an Autumn Leaf

A fallen leaf has a lot to say, if you catch it at the right moment. This moment was a rainy autumn day, when the linden trees still shimmered gold, and I watched one leaf come tumbling down. I wondered what it would be like to be a leaf and fall away from everything you’ve ever known.

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Falling Leaf

One autumn day I noticed a leaf hanging all afternoon by a thread of a bygone spider’s web, until finally the wind swept it away. I sympathized with the little leaf and wrote this poem as an ode to its bravery.

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Hold Dear the Amaranthine Dream

When I went out to my garden this October morning, there was only one rose left. It seemed anxious and afraid to be suddenly on its own, and cold. It also seemed to be asking a desperate question.
And so this poem. It uses the random “challenge words” that we writers at the Bardic Circle in Second Life choose at the end of each of our weekly gatherings. This week he words were: “Beyond, Amaranthine, Sunbeam, Whisper, Fragile”


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Last Words of the King of Summer

King of Summer sunflower with crownThis is the poem that won me the honor of the 2012 Poet Laureate title in the Elf Circle group in the virtual world of Second Life. Every year the 1,900 members choose their Poet Laureate by voting their favorite poems in a Bardic Competition, as in the days of old. This poem was inspired by a dying sunflower I saw bowing at the end of autumn to approaching winter.


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