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by Michael Plante There’s a field where flowers come to rest:the sun shines as if only for them.Cascading winds sways the soulrhythmically as one they enactyet as a smile they are unique. I met a flower before her restshe shone a light just for me.She told me of a beautiful placeawaiting us all; her belief…
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by Michael Plante The howling wake returned an answerto a riddle I asked many years ago.The feather did falter and was lost in the nightnever to return to the river’s edge. The incumbent star of spirits passedholds secure the lasting lightforever reminding uswhere the river is. Trickery or tomfoolery trips the mindstumbling behind the shadows…
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by Michael Plante Sometimes love strikes like a lightening boltthe passion vibrates the soul.Two new lovers are born and set freetheir bond is the binder of timetheir love is a light for those in darkness. Sometimes love is createdby two passionate artists.Their canvass is life, their brushes forged in lonelinesstheir colors so bright it forces…
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by Michael Plante The old red tractor sits in an open fieldgolden wheat sways from a warm breezebetter days have passed the tractor bynothing now but wind and dirt. discarded by timethe old tractor still plays a parta symbolic jester to history’s ledgerwhat was due, and what was paid. twilight’s eye captures the tractorpays homage…
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by Michael Plante I saw love sitting on a rock alone and tiredstaring out across the land of promise and reprieveplucking the petals off a daisyand tossing them to the wind. I picked a dandelion that had gone to seedsat next to her and blew the seeds to the windthey fluttered and floated awayhigher and…
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The Poet's House 