• Windsong

    Windsong: A Poem

    The wind makes its music in the trees, Rustling the branches, Rattling the leaves.   It brushes its silvery fingers Through the grass, Across the colors, of stained window glass.   It whistles its soothing tones Through the fields of green and yellow, Across the shining surface of a pond.   Sometimes it turns into a lion, Ripping, roaring, tearing, Snarling, snapping, growling.   It bats paper bags, Drives the rain, Snarls the trees.   It swats crispy leaves, Snatches hats, Rips away homes.   It blows in the storm clouds, Then brings in the sun.   The wind plays its music, Sweet, wild tones In the evening.   It…

  • English Sonnet

    English Sonnets and Baseball Games

    My last semester of high school, I studied Shakespeare’s tragedies (Julius Caesar, Hamlet, Macbeth, King Lear) and various sonnets. One of my assignments was to write my own English sonnet. I was inspired by the Irish tune “The Foggy Dew.” It’s beautifully haunting and one of my favorite pieces to play on my flute.     Midsummer’s day looked over war, And now the soft shadow of night doth fall Where long grass once rolled with heath of the moor. Now death’s gentle cry rings out a chill call. The haunting pipes long since ceased weeping, Éire’s bold colors no longer sway proud. And yet the fog comes quietly creeping…