Poetry

Flow

By Samia Diouri

I want flow like water,
Find my path of least resistance,
Recognition of my reflection in others,
In the ripples of consciousness,
Know my soul is a drop in the ocean,
And my love is a river,
My wounds are but canyons etched over time,
I let go and resign to the rain filled valleys,
And surrender to the divine.

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Be Free

By Andria Hoag

Toes in the water
Wild life teeming all around
Freedom awaits you

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The Corona-cation Chronicles Day Thirty-six

By Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

There is calm in a rain
that keeps one still;
drizzle or deluge
off leaves drops spill.

And when the rain stops,
there’s calm there, too.
On a drip tip rests
a watery bijou.

My eyes are riveted
on this delicate balancing act;
calm in anticipation
of its longevity protract.

And just like that,
the droplet falls to the ground
where it does the most good
and in this my calm is most profound.

© June 2020 Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

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Southern Lakes

By Jennifer Kostrzewski

Southern lakes are great.
They’re warm, wet, and refreshing.
AHHHH! Alligators!

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Let this lake . . .

By Michael Zahn

Let this lake
be lit with love
for the creatures below
and the creatures above.
Let this lake
be flush with fish,
fulfillment of
every angler’s wish.
Let this lake
be glassy smooth
so paddle boarders
can get their groove.
Let this lake
be gator-free,
(as much as any lake can be)
so swimmers
can kick in ecstacy.
Let this lake
be free of yuck
for those who
quietly skinny-dip
(or chunky-dunk).
Let this lake
be fertilized no more
so weeds don’t choke
and block the shore.
Let this lake
be bright as crystal,
with clarity deep,
not superficial.
Let this lake
please all its users,
including canoers,
kayakers and canoodlers.
In summary,
we surely all want Cane to be
a haven, clean, pristine, pollution-free.
We are Cane’s men, we are Cane’s women:
Let this be our sacred mission.

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The Song Of The Chattahoochee

By Sydney Lanier (submitted by Tom Welch)

Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain,
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
Split at the rock and together again,
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side
With a lover’s pain to attain the plain
Far from the hills of Habersham,
Far from the valleys of Hall.

All down the hills of Habersham,
All through the valleys of Hall,
The rushes cried ‘Abide, abide,’
The willful waterweeds held me thrall,
The laving laurel turned my tide,
The ferns and the fondling grass said ‘Stay,’
The dewberry dipped for to work delay,
And the little reeds sighed ‘Abide, abide,
Here in the hills of Habersham,
Here in the valleys of Hall.’

High o’er the hills of Habersham,
Veiling the valleys of Hall,
The hickory told me manifold
Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall
Wrought me her shadowy self to hold,
The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine,
Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign,
Said, ‘Pass not, so cold, these manifold
Deep shades of the hills of Habersham,
These glades in the valleys of Hall.’

And oft in the hills of Habersham,
And oft in the valleys of Hall,
The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone
Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl,
And many a luminous jewel lone
— Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist,
Ruby, garnet and amethyst —
Made lures with the lights of streaming stone
In the clefts of the hills of Habersham,
In the beds of the valleys of Hall.

But oh, not the hills of Habersham,
And oh, not the valleys of Hall
Avail: I am fain for to water the plain.
Downward the voices of Duty call —
Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main,
The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn,
And a myriad flowers mortally yearn,
And the lordly main from beyond the plain
Calls o’er the hills of Habersham,
Calls through the valleys of Hall

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Meditation

By Jan Annino

Feel breeze on slack back
see gleam on water
sink toes in soaked sand
follow fingerling fetching breakfast

Find stick at drift line
feel woodwork water-smoothed
rake grass in finger play
follow fold of tiny wave

Lean back at shore hem
sense world cruise far away
name white puffs skirting high
follow dream in mind’s eye
Jan Godown Annino

(©2020JanGodownAnnino,allrightsreserved

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Orlando orilla de lago

By Jan Annino

Orlabdo orilla
shelters shimmering glimmering
lapis lazuli
beryl
sapphire
indigo
navy
Lake Cane

Orlando orilla
circles clear dear
glassy
transparent
sheer
pellucid
diaphanous
see-through
Lake Cane
Jan Godown Annino

*orilla de lago – (espanol, lake shoreline)

[copyright©2020JanGodownAnnino,allrightsreserved]

Good luck with the readings. I found this opportunity through the website of Ancient City Poets (St. Augustine)
though I’m not a member, which led me to the Florida statewide poets group, which had the call for poems.
Appreciations for your care of the lake & for your consideration. *Jan

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Oh how I miss thee

By Simba Durio

Oh Lake Cane how I miss thee,
It’s been too long without me
Did I take you for granted being able to drink you everyday but Sunday?
Perhaps, but alls I know without you the skies were surely grey.
My old crusty friends were getting lazy
Needing to swim before they go crazy.
But alas, things are no longer as dim
You can now sign up for a spot to swim
But make sure you arrive on time
Or I hear Ole Lucky will not be kind
Please make sure your name is on the list
Or today’s swim you will certainly miss
Even if you’re only open to just a few
I’m just glad I can see the old crew

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