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Geraldine Shadian: Poet & Writer

Impressionist Poetry


The Ides of Autumn

The last of summer will unfold
The leaves have turned from green to gold
The sun shines with a reddish hue
To greet the bluish winter view

The autumn rains on the earth below
The days are shorter as they ebb and flow
The grey topped waves more frenzied clash
The stormier sea on the coastline crash

The children's call as they go back to school
The parents once more in the household rule
The prepping time for holiday cheer
The planning and saving for the end of year

The nations filled with signs of fall
The traditional actions of us all
The people united in human ways
The sounds and actions of autumn days

Scenes of the Seasons

Spring has arrived the trees are green
Sprinkled with tiny blossoms of life anew
The gossamer of dewy sheen
The flora's offspring in colorful hue

Summer brings heat and light
The flowers on the saplings bloom
The hot winds blow through day and night
Floral fragrances fill the room

Autumn appears with clouds and rain
Trees are clothed in a fiery gown
The days get shorter as daylight wanes
Oak's golden tresses come tumbling down

Lastly frigid Winter makes its presence felt
The leaves are gone, the branches crack
Snow covers all boughs in a pure white pelt
Seasons follow seasons right on track


Whispering willows, with graceful dance , bowing to the ground
In obeisance to the brooks, with their rippling music sound

Through the branches of the oak, night is darkening the track
As shades of sunset trickle through, from golden to night black

All the creatures in the wood, preparing for sweet rest
In the campers lighted tent, softly glows the human nest

Velvet darkness sprinkled with stars, blankets the earth below
Silver shafts of moonlight, embalm with ghostly glow

The brown owl heads towards its home, before the dawn of day
Red shafts of sun soon filter through, and shadows fade away

With chilly light the birdsong floats, throughout a misty sky
All the living start to toil, their needs to satisfy


THE STORM (Hurricane Iwa)

Graceful palms swayed in the tropical breeze
Oahu, Hawaii, the gathering place.
Crimson and gold sunset painted the sky
Waves rolled up silver beaches, an unhurried pace
Just before sunset in nineteen eighty-two
Eve of Thanksgiving, November twenty-three
The sky became darker, with menacing clouds
Strong winds whipped up a tumultuous sea
Trees blown down, scattered on streets
High winds howling, torrential rain,
Work place flooded, stores all shut
Chaos encompassing, my world gone insane.
Water is off, gas stations closed.
Flying debris, windows taped over
Shack and storage blown apart
Gathered in basement prepared for cover
Many loose objects soar in the air
Incessant rain seems never-ending
Regal trees their branches torn bare
Yielding palms before the wind bending
Suddenly silence, the storm's eye overhead
Cessation of sound, eerie and still
Time suspended for momentous duration
Again the frenzied tempest wakes, shrieking and shrill
The howling crescendo tears at the soul.
Then it is over as fast as begun.
The next day is Thanksgiving,
And with the dawn, we see once more the golden sun.
We prayed outside our home and also within
With God's protection not one flower pot fell
Our roof, home and family intact
Although encircled by a turbulent hell



As in the days of Noah, much evil still survives.
Anarchy surrounding, the Serpent soul revives.
It feasts on misery and despair,
Uprooted homes and damaged lives
Crisis is surmounting, desperation takes a rise.
All around is devastation, can none heed the anguished cries.
Many wonder what to cling to. Where's the anchor, in disguise?
Only God can pull them through this, all they need is lifted eyes.
Only He brings peace from chaos, only He can give reprise.
Only He can heal the suffering. If they would only lift their eyes.


Haleakala Snow .

White icing caps the mountain's peak

Frozen sugared sprinkles sprayed

Soft cotton candied clouds bespeak

The white purity darkly grayed

Children look with awestruck eyes

Such a sight never seen

In a place of bluest skies

Crisp cold flats bleach the green

A volcano should be lit with fire

But a snow-white blanket covers its steeps

Unaware of children's joyful desire

To make snowmen and snowballs while it sleeps

This is the finest beauty rare

Seen seldom in each decade

On a Maui mountain frozen air

A bridal gown in Nature's parade

Feb. 2008

A Quiet Place.

Visage raised towards the wind
Around me beauty rare.
Mountains, streams and vales of green.
My soul sings, released from care.

My spirit refreshed in a gentle rain
Peace envelops my mind and heart
Heaven is here for a while on earth
A small refuge that God set apart.

Rose, Small

snowy day: artist geraldine shadian

Snowy Day

The clouds were dark and heavy with grey
Another blustery cold winter day
The pathways sprinkled with freckles of white
From each wooded homestead shreds of light
A lone shrinking figure trudges away
While bone chilling winds surround him in play
Each footstep erased as a snow flurry rolls
The pathway gets slick, he draws close to the poles
His journey is slow, thick flakes blinding his sight
By instinct alone he gets his path right
Home beckons to him, like a whispering song
Anticipation makes his walk less long
The glowing warmth in this day freezing and grim
The family that watch through the window for him.

march 2007

Geraldine Shadian: Poet & Writer

League of American Poets

Geraldine Shadian

Manor Shadian