The beach is free Of sandy feet It’s swept and clean Of trash and debris; From summer visitors Who fail to keep The beach they visit Litter-free; It’s a place where wildlife Live and feed A spot where many Return to breed; As a welcomed guest Please respect their home And pick-up all litter While… Read More Litter-Free
Though Halloween’s over There’s still treats to be had The sweet taste of pumpkin Drives the squirrels mad; They nibble and gnaw Through poor Jack O’s face Until his once toothy grin Is but a hole to escape; These furry scavengers Love to eat and run Making each meal a bit Of mischievous fun
Pause a moment There’s beauty to be seen It’s there but a second Before falling from trees; Swept up by wind Leaves drift away Before frost can seal them In the icy grave; Pause a moment Won’t you, please? Before the splendor of autumn Fades into snow covered trees
Stuck in A summer that was But reaching For a season still to come; Half and half Soon will be A vibrantly colored Autumn tree
Dear Summer in New England, For you we wait all year To gaze upon your sunny face And forget our winter fears; We welcome you With bare open arms Too pale from the lack of Your warmth and charms; But like the fickle souls we are Soon we’ll be complaining, “It’s wicked hot and humid… Read More Dear Summer in New England
Call me curious As your camera lens scans The farm I call home With birds, goats, ponies and lambs; Nestled in the forest Is our true second chance To be loved and cherished To rest or playfully prance; Across the yard Or tucked in a hay bed At the animal rescue We’re all safe and… Read More Second Chance
There’s no commotion This time of year For our feathered friends Who’ve gathered near; Islanders Not willing to revoke Their view from above Where they watch townsfolk; Who stay all year Just like they do Staking their claim The whole winter through; Until bitter cold’s gone And warm days return When summer people come Streets and… Read More Islanders
Covered by fallen leaves And orange pine needles Once green; Acorns on the ground Become lost treasures To be found; By squirrels Who prepare For autumn’s sundown; When a pointed finger Issues an icy demand, “Colors, fade. You must follow Winter’s plan.”
Framed by darkness Illuminated by light A mixed composition Is the cycle of life; Seasons of change Some welcomed…some not All have a purpose Lest we forgot; Even the rainy days That block out the sun Help ignite the color In the next autumn to come.
BURIED Where history speaks Of misery For the untimely deceased For the young and old Who lost their lives: To famine; disease; Hysteria; witch trials; Their fate On headstones marked By date and type Of earthly fraught From a troubling time In our history books Remembered by Monuments and tourist nooks In Salem Secrets, truth… Read More BURIED
Jessica M. Collette 
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