Finis Coronat Opus

Midday blazes, sunbeam bright Gleams upon the fields with light; Golden tint and warm embrace Touch daffodil and Queen Anne’s Lace. What shade settles o’er the earth, Dimming light, dispelling mirth? Look above! The sun’s fair gaze Is lost behind a shaded haze. Even with his face subdued, Hid behind the shadow blue, Fiery rays reach o’er the rim And blaze to life ‘round circle dim.

In misty afternoon, amid The light rainfall on em’rald grass, When past have drifted clouds that hid The sunlight, rays now cast Against the canvas of the sky’s Deep periwinkle-tinted hue, An arch of splendid color bright Clad in the falling dew. Fair bands of crimson, azure, gold, Above the meadow’s dampened ground Cast up toward hazy heav’ns a bow Of glory most profound. Yon’ rainbow shimm’ring in the mist Holds promise ancient as the day When mountains rose and skies were rent -  All rains shall flow away. Destruction lasts but short a time, And rainfall swift and thunders loud May rage until the evening light; Yon’ rainbow gleams in clouds.

In wake of mistral dark and swift, And rains’ torrential pour, That floods the field and fills the ditch And puddles on the moor, A gleaming ray from passing clouds Peeks out from darken’d mist, And pierces through the dimmest shroud To promise sunny bliss. Soon, other beams of sunlit mirth Reach down to fields below, And paint with sparkling dew the turf To verdure better show. Thus, in the wake of thunderstorm, A canvas vast is wrought, And shimm’ring portrait gazed upon Is never swift forgot.

Her striped skin lies still amid The swaying grass in scorching wind; Her eyes gaze long, intently on Her prey, that grazes in the sun. The tigress springs, the hunt is brief And to her pack she brings relief, For many days has food been scarce, And hungry cats lie in their lair. Her cubs play ‘round her as she lies Upon a rock ‘neath pale moonrise; She sleeps, yet wakeful ears are perked Through shady night to keep alert. And dawn breaks fair o’er grassy plain, And tigress seeks her game again. How sure she is of instinct, eye, And sense, to feed her pride aright.

From lofty height, o’er hill and field, A shadow passes, calm, With breezes light, it wends and yields  Like notes of summer song. It soars its way through river gorge And canyons rugged, deep;  Its shadow kisses falls and fords And mountain passes steep. The eagle’s eye, sharp cast along His flight o’er earth below, Sees all as ants, not great nor strong, As daylight ebbs and flows. Such scope and scale yon’ eyes have seen That cannot turn to words; Nay, left are we to ponder keen The eagle’s lofty soar.

The sun has set, the day is done, And many hours of dark ’til dawn Must pass, ‘ere eye beholds again The gleam of morning ray, though dim. Yet in the darkness, black and deep, There glints a light beyond the reach Of mists and cloud, that beams a ray To watchers hasting break of day. When thousand-fold stars do appear, And shatter night’s stern grip of fear, Who then can anxious wait for morn,   While constellations glitter forth?

Imagine a field strewn with flowers so bright, That sway soft in waves as they bend ‘neath the light, With colors so vivid, the richest of hues Put artists to shame; what now is their muse? And now, picture over the wild flowers gay A flutt’ring of wings ‘neath the dawn of the day; O’er milkweed and nettle, and marigold bright, They deftly weave ‘round, colors catching the light. Yon butterflies bring fields alive with their dance Which man cannot do, he would tire and pant; Yet daily they fly ‘mid the blooms and the leaves, And bring simple joy to the ones who will see.