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new poetry

These are some of my newest poems.  Proceed to the "Poetry" tab to view other original poems.  I am currently working on an illustrated book of my original poems.

"On Snow Falling on the  Pines" by Don Hiser

​

 

As the first winter snow falls softly on my yard

I contemplate my own life and what it means to be.

And as that snow continues to fall, increasing, towards storm's end

It bends the beautiful branches of my tall and stately trees.

But only rarely does it break branches struggling in the storm

to throw off that heavy weight that short-term foe has borne.

Still that snow will soon be gone, as the sun shines once again.

Bending, but not breaking, those limbs and recovery again begins.

 

I think of the strength it took to recover from that great white mass

How each limb, each frond bends down but holds.  Firm 'till all has passed.

As that snow surely falls from those branches. Melts into the ground

it will feed those roots of my trees 'til springtime comes around

I think of how those trees will turn that foe's grip into gold

and use that gold in coming days, as their wonder we behold! 

Those trees remain a symbol of overcoming any challenge faced

Those trees will still remain, and prosper, heaven-sent and full of grace.

 

There is a lesson from this path that our fellow man applies

that heavy weight placed on our limbs from tyrants, not the skies

applies its momentary force to justify its tragic means

and works to break the branches of our love...our faith...our unity...and democracy

Just as with that heavy snow, all tyrants will melt and die

and "We the people" will recover strength and liberty...through faithfulness, bye and bye! 

Snow on pines.jpg

new poetry

These are some of my newest poems.  If you like what you read send me a note at hiserdhmusic@gmail.com and I will get you access to other poems I have written.  I am currently working on an illustrated book of my original poems.

Praying

THE LONG GOODBYE

"The ‘Long Goodbye’" is a sense of anticipatory grief that is commonly associated with Alzheimer's and other dementia and highlights just how devastating it can be.

 

"The Long Goodbye" -

words and music by Don Hiser

​

The Long Goodbye!
No good to sit around and cry.
for The Long Goodbye!
Now you don't recognize me.
I barely know myself.
All I can do is wonder why
This Long Goodbye!

​

No one could have told us
what pains this wound would bring.
There was no plan
for victory in this game.
Is it acceptance now
There's no one to blame.
There is no recognition now.
You just smile and ask my name.

​

We've known each other
since our schoolyard days.
We laughed and prayed together.
Tried to mend our errant ways.
But lately you don't even
know me as your friend.
(I still come around), play songs you know,
and hope for a light every now and then.

​

The Long Goodbye!
No good to sit around and cry.
for The Long Goodbye!
Now you don't recognize me.
I barely know myself.
All I can do is wonder why
The Long Goodbye!

 

Whose to know
If I will follow your same way.
It seems my memories fade
with each and every passing day
But my friend for now
I'll just try to make you smile
and hold back these tears
swelling in my eyes
For The Long Goodbye!

 

The Long Goodbye!
No good to sit around and cry.
for The Long Goodbye!
Now you don't recognize me.
I barely know myself.
All I can do is wonder why
The Long Goodbye!

Garden

Section Title

MY NEIGHBOR'S GARDEN

by Don Hiser

​

I look upon my neighbor's garden,

in the morning, with admiration.

For this year's spring, now in full swing,

has brought forth his yard’s bounty.

I glance across my own trimmed lawn

with nary a flower blooming.

Where only green stalks, with leaves,

in my own berm are now displayed.

Colored capstones, blooms yet unseen

await my own yard's slumbering 

and stalks wave, unflowered, fluttering

to greet the brand new day.

 

While my neighbor’s lovely produce,

like the coming of mine, will fade,

my yard will soon show its bounty,

winter's promises, fully paid.

I'll offer to my cherished neighbor,

in my yard’s own sweet time

a reflection?  No!  A companion!

of nature's gifts, sublime!

I yearn to pay that neighbor back

for this gift that he gives to me.

So I sit...and wait...and sit...and wait

I patiently wait till the bounty of my own yard comes to be.

 

I contemplate the offerings 

each one of us deployed

through toil in last year's planting

and yesteryears' desires.

Through the thoughtful placing

of each and every bloom

and the toil (is it a passion?)

of a plethora of weeds removed.

Our treasure troves of dazzling colors, 

diverse as all on earth

A reminder of, with gentle care, 

all things receive rebirth.

A reminder of life's cycles.  

All will wither and die.

But in the spring, with love and faith, 

past winter's cold, ruinous embrace

our gardens we so carefully placed

will blossom again, by and by. 

 

And so it is, my friends, 

in my life and in yours.

each of our gardens, carefully placed, 

from the winter will endure 

Not in constant competition!  

Not as rivals, as some will say,

They state some reason for this life

a simple reason for this life

not just seeking an afterlife

But as companions agin the fray!

 

And as we seed each garden 

that seem differently laid

look closer at those placements that 

through God's grace were ordained.

Each one to complement the other 

in spring’s time of rebirth

And look upon our fellow man

to rise and lend a helping hand

and teach the single-minded man

our gardens embrace each other

as the everlasting meaning of peace, goodwill on earth! 

Gardening
Purple Glow
Starry Sky

Section Title

WHEN I BECOME STARDUST AGAIN!

by Don Hiser

​

Stars are born ever more in the sky.

From dust they are born, to dust when they die.

I contemplate eternity, time without end

when I become Stardust again.

​

This body was Stardust before it became

a wonder in the universe that God had ordained.

Created from Stardust I always have been.

And I will be Stardust again!

​

Comets arrive and then fade away

Millions of years, to them just a day.

Though changed this communion of flesh will remain

When I become Stardust again!

​

My dreams of a lifetime, important to me

to the stars have no meaning, what will be will be.

Through faith for my soul eternity awaits

and will be revealed as I meet my fate.

​

Of my cherished soul only passing will tell.

From this earthbound existence maybe Heaven, maybe Hell.

My soul seeks forgiveness, but this body knows no sin.

It just becomes Stardust again.

​

To the universe each particle of dust holds a key

to the unfolding wonder of eternity.

Just as God gladly welcomes each soul as life ends

The universe will smile,

and rejoice,

when I become stardust again!

​

​

​

AUGUST by Don Hiser

I hear your heartbeat.

Softly you whisper.

Love's sweet surrender

on this August morn.

​

These August mornings

bathed in the sunlight.

The last stand of summer.

A new fall not yet born.

​

Twilight and Moonlight

shared with each other.

Your hand in my hand.

Memories now gained.

​

Your lingering kisses

as we stop for a moment.

Autumn is fading

but our love remains.

​

Lying beside you

in the warmth of the sunlight.

I know this moment

will soon fade away.

​

My vowed commitment

to love you forever,

not just in August

but each passing day.

​

​

Kiss
chicken Parade_edited.jpg

ANNABELLE'S CHICKEN PARADE

​

I have seen a dogwood tree

whose bark never made a sound.

By the pond some cattails grow

where no cat was ever found.

In my garden grow eggplants

though an egg was never laid.

But nothing is as magical

as Annabelle's Chicken Parade.

​

Now every night within their coup

those chickens they did slumber.

Though different size and color

Safely remained four in number.

But in the morn those four would strut

from coup, with quite a sound

behind young Annabelle

to their backyard pecking ground.

​

My backyard in the summer

is filled with buzzing "hummers"

and other kinds of birds both large and small.

Sometimes does with their young fawns

munch lazily upon my lawn.

Till those summer days turn into fall.

But it brings me joy each morning

as I see the sun's first rays

to smile and watch young Annabelle

and her chickens on parade!

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