2 Poems By Cheryl A.Van Beek

Sacred Land Outside My Window

Strips of green, blue and white
a world striped
by synthetic edges
of open blinds,
closely mowed grass
the last affront before
landscaping yields
to a pond
green with reflection.

Nymphs born in slow ripples
whirl
widen
whisper still.
Four turtles bask on its bank,
the same spot each day.
They remember.

Shrubs of lemon trumpets
breathe bees, sing birds.
Roots tiptoe
below moist earth.
Bald Cypress press their heads
into whipped pearls
that laze across turquoise sky.

Dragonflies hear the song
that clutches the wind
from deep in the earth,
the buried flute
that holds our breath.


The Tree of Lost Ideas

Branches sway out of reach
Kites of green break free
Leaves brush shoulders,
somersault the breeze
Angle past my outstretched arms
They parachute down
Trail their fingers
in the stream
Leave their trace
in ripples
sailing down the river


Bionote

Cheryl A. Van Beek has had poems published in Sandhill Review and is a member of the Saint Leo Writers’ Circle. She has also written for a local newspaper. She is a caregiver for her mother and lives with her husband and their two cats in Florida, the “Land of Flowers,” where she tends an ever expanding garden of diverse wildlife including alligators and the occasional cow. cvanbeek@tampabay.rr.com