Lake O' The Pines

Lake O’ the Pines is a reservoir on Big Cypress Bayou, also known as Big Cypress Creek, chiefly in Marion County, Texas, USA.

This was a destination George and I sought out on many weekends for tenting, boating, tubing, fishing, relaxing, listening to music, painting, writing, reading, exploring, -- I even took my sewing machine one time and made things.

The sunsets were magical, the colors peeking through the trees, the aromas of campfires and sounds of people settling in for the evening. Mornings with coffee made on the campfire - ah!

We took our two cats one weekend, which ended in panic during a thunderstorm, so we got an RV and started camping in it. It was still fun, but never as much fun as those rugged tentings.

I present this in memory of my beloved George. . .

Taffeta rustle of the waves

Upon the bow,

The now

Upon my cheek,

Willow-whispering,

Delivering

Messages of love.

With this,

The day

Begins.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay

Glorious sunrise

Quickly bleaching

Golden clouds to white,

Polishing the silver

Of the water's waves

And peaking just above

Clumps of trees

Bursting from these

Morning moods

Into the glory

Of the day.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay

Little tropic isle

Upon my lake,

You promise

All of my

Tomorrows,

Invite

My Yesterdays

To come alive again

And make

My Now

Serene.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay

Twisted roots,

And knarled

Around the shoreline;

Reminders of

The tenuous fiber

Of the gentle willow tree.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay

The day begins this time

With murmuring cottonwoods and willows

Reflected on the silver-spangled surface

On the lake.

The whippoorwills have hushed

Their conversation now,

Replaced

By mourning doves and ducks;

The secrets of the night

Replaced

By bright, clear light.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay

Shoreline silhouette

Against the sunset,

Black-laced woods beautify

Water-merged with sky

Unicolored mist,

The waves and clouds

Merged in more than unity.

Alas - I know of this

- 'Tis I.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay

Sunset -

Black, aqua, purple, gold.

Bold -

Sprigs of fantasy tease a breeze

Waves of tint shimmer languidly

Upon restless water

To identify

With gold-tip'd clouds

In shades of mauvy sky,

Settling down

Color clings tenaciously to fading surfaces

Instantaneously changing

Yet still the same -

Rearranging -

Eternity lingers suspended in the now.

Though now the sunset

Must taper off

And drain from sky

To let

The night begin.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay

The sound of dawn this morn

Drowns out

The muted sight of it.

Muffling clouds

Allow the pink and gold

To filter through

So slightly

That fullest dawn with you

Becomes the sweeter dream,

While distantly

Its closeness

Haunts this softened dawn.

______© Nellieanna H. Hay