Poetry

a few of Lyn's

Poems

Vernal Falls

Down from the heavens

I come tumbling

a galaxy of fallen stars

a million white-winged doves

love weaves a daisy chain

rainbows of melting snows

ice to mist

winging

singing to the craggy steep

leaping to my emerald deep

pool

cool and winking blue

I am Nature’s song of giving

beauty ever new.

Lyn Littlefield Hoopes

Dragontail Dream

Whose little dragon

whipping her tail

leaping, laughing

tipped the sea pail

spilling a sparkling,

slithering stream

a shivering, quivering

ruffled sunbeam

weaving a shining sequin braid

with a ribbon bright blue

inviting you to wade

quietly ride

your dragontail tide

sweet where it flows,

gently tracing, erasing

the prints of your toes,

whispering, winding

finding its way,

inviting you

to imagine

imagine

imagine anew.

Lyn Littlefield Hoopes

Mt Rainier

Above the wide land you rise,
O silent mysterious being

Tahoma

Live volcano of old
hooded by snow,
how long do you sleep?

Dawn upon dawn you keep
company with the clouds,
round mountain dome
and hush of sky
in a world of your own dreaming

As though time is nothing to you,
holding such a secret
is nothing to you

Ever we watch for you to appear
“Tahoma is out!"
O giant, wild beauty
rising out of the mist,
“Mother of waters,”*

What have you to tell us?
What have you to say?

* the Puyallup tribe knows the mountain as Tahoma, meaning mother of waters

Doubtful Sound

I would be a sliver of sky

come to lie down

between the dark

shoulders of mountains,

silhouettes that ripple on

like the notes of a song

to the silver line of dawn

I would be a sliver of cloud-dappled sky

come down to dream

to float on still water

and see

what is it like to look up?

Let the mountains go on being mountains, bold,

and the islands dark plums

I will take my clouds to a quiet place

to wonder, unseen, alone

be still,

listening hearts in reflection,

or play, free as they like,

those games clouds play

when no one is looking

I would be a sliver of sky

come down to dream

Lyn Littlefield Hoopes

Acorn Poem

pay attention
to the smallest things

an acorn
plump and woodsey green
with ruffled cap of brown,

a deep, peaked shadow

on the stair to the beach

where periwinkles sing
in shining drifts
and the sweet tide calls

an acorn
I greet each morning
on the third riser

a silent hello

green turns to gingers
amber, brown,

cap off,
a new shadow,
round
round as a top
with a tip to spin

round as a globe,
life dreaming within

hello …
hello

acorn
on the stair

where I come

and go

Lyn Littlefield Hoopes

Acadia

You seek a poem today
where mountains run to the sea,
ponds are full and clear,
and valleys fresh in green

You seek a poem today
and you’re willing to be surprised.
What do you hear?
What catches your eye?
Eagle who plays with the wind?
Endless sky?

You listen for a poem today
you wonder and wander free
where billowing blues
and craggy cliffs say,
spend a little time with the sea.

The sea has time to share.
She calls you near
to love her flippering pups,
her thunder, boom,
and leaping salt spray,
to listen in a new kind of way.
Be still and look long.

Hear her vast forever song.
The sharp horizon,
once the edge of the world
whispers, now beyond, beyond.

Listen with your heart.
Your idea will grow.
You seek a poem today.
When you find it,
you will know.

Lyn Littlefield Hoopes

Sail in Little Boat of Night

Sail in,
little boat of night

Ghost in on silver wind

Anchor here
and furl your colors tight

Let down your sail of plum sky
Furl and tie

Make fast,
little boat of night

Unlatch your cabin door
Let darkness drift ashore

Lyn Littlefield Hoopes, Penobscot Bay, Maine

Turtle Hatching

Have you heard
turtle hatchling’s song?
Dawn by the pond
tiny turtle skips along.

Wisss of turtle tummy,
tic of turtle toes
hear his happy tapping
as he goes,
a ladybug flapping ‘round his nose

Listen,
listen well,

in grass his tummy whistles
hear the creaking of his shell,
a tic-tic of prehistoric claw,
quick click, snick of secret jaw

soft turtle tunk
as he tucks inside,
tiny heart singing
his first peek of sky.

He’s on his first walk-about,
his world is all new.

Listen, I’ll listen,
how about you?

Lyn Littlefield Hoopes