Pacific Rim Sunset

Read then see photos below!!!

Psalm 92:4-5a The Message: "You made me so happy, God. I saw your work and I shouted for joy. How magnificent your work, God!"

Pacific Rim Sunset

by Marlene Depler

Silently, I sit in my front row seat

on the edge of the earth

where land converges with sky and sea

Sinking sun shimmers over crashing waves

as the Master Painter takes the stage

He lifts his brush to the canvas

pink and then lavender--

wide pastel strokes across the heavens

Next he adds bold highlights

of orange and plum

then smudges the rocks and trees

into black silhouettes

Hushed I admire the beauty

of the evening masterpiece

until the sea swallows the sun

Just when I think He is finished

He dips his brush in gold

signing his work with a simple cresent moon

My heart cries out as I jump to my feet,

"Bravo!" "Encore!"

He bows and waves, "Perhaps tomorrow."

(c) 2009 Marlene Depler

Reprints in any form only allowed with author's permission

Seasons Hand in Hand

Summer and fall have walked hand in hand longer than ususal this year. It's wonderful to have the trees turning and still have summer flowers. One couldn't ask for more magnificant weather.(All the photos above were taken on a neighborhood walk a few days ago.)

We haven't had a frost yet, but I'm sure it won't be long now. Today it is raining. The weather forecast shows 33º for tomorrow night. Fall will soon have to bid farewell to summer.

In honor of autumn, here's a poem I wrote several years ago:

Autumn Leaves

By Marlene Depler


Crimson, purple, orange, and gold,
trees so glorious to behold.
Such beauty never does grow old.
Old Winter is knockin’ at the door,
these colors he must deplore
for he will send the dark and cold.

Fluttering, dancing, floating leaves
landing softly under trees.
Jack Frost has been here with a freeze.
Old Winter is knockin’ at the door,
but I still ask for more---
a bit more sunshine, if you please.

Leaves swirling, twirling in the wind
as tree limbs gently sway and bend,
acquiescing to Summer’s end.
Old Winter is knockin’ at the door.
I wonder what he has in store.
What arctic blasts will he send?

Leaves raked neatly in a pile---
I'm not sure that's worthwhile.
A gust of wind---they’ll blow a mile.
Old Winter is knockin’ at the door.
I’ve heard this knock before.
Oh, I’ll ignore him for awhile.

(c) Marlene Depler (Permission must be granted reprint or reproduce in any form)