BEAUTY

 

Fox grass bending under gentle, windy strokes,

Snow bank patches left on eastern side of slopes,

Early grass growing on the valley wall beyond,

Horizontal streaks set ablaze by the sun,

Unleafed apple trees file up the hill abreast.

A honey bee in strip’d array is out searching for the rest

A variegated heaven is peeking past the tail’s of mares,

As silhouetted birds claimed the world as theirs.        

– eab, Apr. ’71

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BEAUTY

 

Fox grass bending under gentle, windy strokes,

Snow bank patches left on eastern side of slopes,

Early grass growing on the valley wall beyond,

Horizontal streaks set ablaze by the sun,

Unleafed apple trees file up the hill abreast.

A honey bee in strip’d array is out searching for the rest

A variegated heaven is peeking past the tail’s of mares,

As silhouetted birds claimed the world as theirs. 

– eab, Apr. ’71

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Beauty is an INSIDE thing

 

 

 

glimpsed best through

 

 

 

your eyes and words. 

– eab, 10/5/11

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P u m p k i n s

Pumpkins “liter” the farmer’s south field,

 

 

Large, orange globes so abundantly yield

 

 

Color, beauty, and later, sweet pies

 

 

From a single seed – no one denies.

 

 

Ah, God’s genetics, all signed and sealed.  

 

                – eab, 10/13/10

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REFLECTING ON THE YUKON

 ^[1]

The water below me is “coffee, with cream.”

But the water out there is blue, it would seem.

Maybe beauty is not always in the eye;

Sometimes it’s a reflection of God’s perfect sky. 

          – eab, 7/96

 

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^[1] Andrew, Daryl, Phillip, & I went up the Yukon (in boat owned by a friend).  They caught pike at Dall (fish were good) I helped a little and thought on the banks of this mighty stream. Saw black fox.

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Snow in Heaven?

He has no snowy evenings,

Wherever he as gone.

Whether up the steeps of light,

Or down the hills of non-dawn.

Unless the Lord of all weather,

The Worker of all that’s best,

Has snow in eternal heaven;

Snow with beauty but no mess,

Snow that falls but never stays,

Or stays but causes no stormy days.   – eab, 12/2001

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Butterfly

For a brief moment only,

A butterfly landed,

Before it expanded,

Its wings and moved on.

But that moment revealed

Such orange and black splendor,

Such structure such form,

As only a Creator could render;

That one wonders why, with butterflies around,

Atheist, agnostics, or their kind can be found.

 

And another thought persists on presentation.

Such beauty, though of such brief revelation,

Was still beauty. 

Beauty, howe’er brief it may be,

Is still beautiful to see!

Friend, your life and mine,

Though complexed and completed by activities of time,

Is just as short by eternity’s standard,

As the moment an insect spent before it bounded.

Make it beautiful, friend, make it remembered by,

The color and structure, and years from now

When you’ve bounded away,

Its beauty will be able to stay.   -eab, 9/1975

 

Written after seeing a monarch at the first curve of graven road leading up to the water tower behind Friendsville, Tennessee.

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