Surviving The Storm

Poem By Thelma Schiller

Along the foothills marsh-mists rise and fall;
Through glass I see their trail of fog across
The window-sky and sense a coming squall.
The leaves of shadow-deer and pine now toss
And curl around my shaky beach-craft words.
Alone at summer's end...limned sea waves roll
And ice-glass glaciers flash like slashing swords.
How store away this year...this summer scroll?

Join walkers in suburban malls, or hide
From man, and watch the sailship's rigging blow?
I'll live a hermit's life... while worlds collide
Now caught in cosmic strife, and hail, and snow...
Among storm traces write o rhythmic sea,
Till springtime comes again, and sets me free.

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Other poems of THELMA SCHILLER

Church In The Mist

What shore is this... my ship still lists?
What Church slow-rising from the mists?
Where penguins lay their eggs in albatross- square,
Streams cascade down the rocky cliffside where

Ice Sculpture

The wings and winds of nature blow
The pristine air through mountain trails
Up high in Cascades where the glow
Of glaciers shimmers like ship sails.