Poems by Patricia Fleming

When I stand small before the ocean
In her vast infinity,
I'm consumed by all her beauty
And my profound humility.

When I succumb to her enticement
And the beckoning of her waves,
I become her eager servant
And her shameless, willing slave.

The chill in her mighty, salty touch,
My mere self in her boundless embrace,
Sharing the rhythm of her shifting surf
Everything else in the world is erased.

When she slowly grows more placid
And I float limp within her peace,
I see only the blue sky up above
I hear only the sounds of the sea.

But alas she's a moody enchantress
Turning fierce when the harsh wind blows.
She'll come thundering forth without mercy
To warn me it's past time to go.

As I sit on the toasty, sparkling sand
And I watch her play tag with the shore,
People stand by her quite mesmerized,
She's a marvel that can't be ignored.

There are moments I call her my loyal chum
And I trust her implicitly.
But then she may wield all her force my way
And I realize I'm out of her league.

When the summer is drawing nigh to a close
And my visits more precious and brief,
When the chill of the winter is all there is
I'll find warmth in her sweet memory.

I will think of her beauty in the early morn
When the sun starts to light up the sky
And she shimmers upon her in sheer delight
Like bright diamonds before my eyes.

I'll imagine the boats in the distance,
The wind pushing their bright, graceful sails
The aroma of the sea and her salty bite
As I lift up my chest and inhale.

I will think of her often as time passes by
So unfettered, dynamic, and free
I'll imagine the joy when I see her again
And hope she'll be glad to see me.

I'll stand firm for love of country
And I'll speak of her with pride.
I will be grateful for those freedoms
Under which I've lived my life.

I will respect her Constitution
And every right bestowed therein,
And recognize those rights belong to me
And to all my fellowmen.

I will try to know her intimately
And her lavish history.
I'll learn the truth of her transgressions
And all her noble victories.

I will observe my solemn duty
To protect this venerable land
And choose wise and honest leaders
Who hold her fate within their hands.

I'll keep abreast of all those issues
That plague my country every day
And accept responsibility
To be a conduit for change.

I'll speak out against injustice
And admit when she is wrong
And I'll stand with her, not against her
To keep her values strong.

I will never take for granted
Those brave who stand before us all
Who serve with grit and fortitude
When their beloved country calls.

I will treat this land with reverence
And help her be all she can be!
I will perpetuate her beauty
From her grand mountains to her seas.

I will not ignore the warnings
And I'll accept my share of blame
That all nature and humanity
Must be honored and sustained.

I'll look to God for help and guidance
When she seems to lose her way.
But I will never turn my back on her
Or her dignity betray!

And when I see her Regal Stars and Stripes
Fanning boldly in the breeze.
I will Admire and Acclaim her
For all she's graciously given me.
 

The moon reflects the fallen snow
And makes it light as day
I lay awake upon my bed,
As the clock tick tocks away.

A sound pierces the silence,
Perhaps a sleigh upon the roof.
And rushing to the chimney,
The clip clop of reindeer's hooves.

My heart fills with excitement.
Could Santa Claus be there?
I gently tip toe from my room
And down the wreath-lined stairs.

Then almost in a whisper,
I hear a Ho, Ho, Ho!
And spy a hulking shadow
In the trees' prismatic glow.

I peek around the corner,
And sitting in Dad's chair
Is Santa Claus in all his glory,
Munching cookies I prepared.

His cheeks are pudgy, rosy red,
And his eyes are kind and bright.
I feel frozen there right where I stand,
Bewitched by such a sight.

He seems a happy fellow,
As he finishes his snack.
His bulbous belly shakes with glee
As he gathers up his sack.

And then I see beneath the tree,
Toys of every size.
Everything I ever wished for,
Laid out before my eyes.

And there beside the chimney,
As he prepares to take his leave,
Santa gives a hearty Ho, Ho, Ho!
Then winks and waves at me.

Then suddenly he vanishes,
As the chimney shakes with soot.
And all I see at that last moment
Are his black and shiny boots.

I feel so sad and thoughtless
As I watch him cross the sky.
I never even thanked him
Or wished him luck and said good-bye.

Well, next year will be different,
For I'll be waiting there.
And when Santa makes his visit,
I'll show him just how much I care.

I'll knit for him the longest scarf
To keep the cold at bay
And a huge and cozy blanket
To warm his lap inside his sleigh.

And when it's time for him to go,
He'll not use the chimney anymore,
For I will shake my good friend's hand
And blithely walk him to the door.

There is nothing that can quite compare
To the fragrance of the fresh spring air,
Floating on the softest breeze,
Stirring the world from its frozen sleep.

The merry, twittering early birds
Now usher in the dawn,
Filling the quiescent silence
With a panoply of song.

The sun's an early riser.
Her brilliance cannot be ignored.
She demands complete attention
From the still, lethargic world.

The naked, drooping sullen trees
And the brown and barren earth
Begin to show those subtle signs
Of their glorious rebirth.

The greenest green of grassy lawns
Begin to sprout and grow,
Creating deep plush emerald quilts,
Replacing mounds of crystalline snow.

Neatly tended flower beds
Filled with splashy, bursting buds
Lift their heads as they proudly swoon
Beneath the dazzling sun.

The deeply limpid azure sky
Can fill with clouds of gray,
And the smiling sun may suddenly cry,
Revealing the moods of a lush spring day.

Skeletal trees once standing exposed,
Now bedecked in verdant leaves,
Dance proudly and unabashedly
In the hushed and warm spring breeze.

The deadly winter quiet
And that sense of desolation
Is now broken by the sounds of life
And the world's excited jubilation.

Spring has sprung and hope renewed
As people open up their doors.
Those gloomy days and that frigid air
Won't stop them anymore.

Every season has its beauty.
Nature's glory cannot be denied.
But strolling through a blossoming park
Is much better than slumbering inside.