Scorching heat,
Frozen cold,
Sharp winds,
Sheets of rain,
Deadly hail stones,
Booming thunder,
Bright lightning,
Roiling dark clouds,
These are the ways of the sky.
Author: SiennaTigerlily
Hey, my name's Val and I'm from Texas, and I now live in Utah. I moved up here in late June 2020 and am loving it. I love animals--specifically horses, dogs, tigers, wolves, and cats. I have a 16 year old tortoise-shell cat, named Chloe who still lives in Texas with my parents, and the horse pictured here with me belonged to friends, but they called him "my horse”. He passed away in September 2020. He was my boy, and his name was Snip, and he was a sweet little devil at heart. I'm a cashier/customer service representative at a baby store here in Utah. My favorite hobbies are horseback riding, reading, and most anything having to do with the outdoors, along with many other hobbies.
Jeweled Eyes Set in Stone:
From May 18, 2019.
Jeweled eyes set in stone,
Topaz like the sunny sun,
Ruby as the rose is red,
Aquamarine like the waters clear,
Sapphire such as the distant mountains blue,
Emerald as the forest is green green green,
Onyx blends into the night,
Many jeweled eyes look out,
Survey the nature of the world,
Jeweled eyes are set in stone.
The Water of My Heart
Feb.28, 2019: Written right after my dog, Bruce, and my cat, Blondie, died; I’ve always seen life as being “a half-full glass of water”, so for me to not see it that way really means how heartbroken I am, though now with the help of the horses I’m coming back to myself:
I am heartbroken,
The halves of my heart fall to the ground–their edges jagged,
They hit the ground shattering into many pieces,
My heart shattered–I am empty,
The glass of water is empty,
There is no half-full,
Where is the water that will make the glass full which will bring my heart halves into a whole one?
That water is missing.
The Truth
The words were really flowing here. I wrote this several years ago.
The Truth:
Wild and free you set me free,
To show me the path to eternity!
Now you cast me out,
Yet you call me a layabout,
I show you the truth,
And you say I’m uncouth,
Yet I am the truth!
Tiger
The tiger is my favorite of all the big cats, and considering it’s part of my website name, I figured I should have a poem about the tiger. So here it is. I just finished writing it.
Tiger:
Black and orange stripes slink through the jungle,
Tail twitches,
Claws feel the ground,
Yellow eyes sweep the jungle blackness round,
Who am I?
You don’t see me for my shroud of black and orange,
You don’t see me for the trees and bushes that protect me,
You don’t see me for my stealthiness–my paws make no sound as I pad across the ground,
You don’t see me for the sable of the night–I blend with it–the night and I become one,
But I see you,
You do not blend with my home–the jungle,
You push through the brush–snapping twigs as you go,
Your feet on the ground are a thunder to my ears,
Your figure stands out–seen with my eyes of the dark,
Who am I?
I am the tiger and I see you.
Jaguar
The jaguar is one of my favorites of the big cats.
Jaguar:
I am stealthy and sleek,
I am dangerous,
My claws are sharp–I deal you a deadly blow,
My eyes glow with a dangerous light,
They seek you out–I find you,
I come to you in the night,
Softly–cautiously–and dangerously,
I come to you across the forest floor.
Eyes
I think this was inspired by a fantasy book that I was reading at the time.
Eyes:
Black eyes look out from the forest’s shadowy depths,
They glow like hot embers,
They stalk my dreams,
Golden eyes come forth,
Protect me,
Thick white coat warm me,
Wrap around me,
Give me a toasty fire and hold me close.
Sunrise
And yet another horse poem.
Sunrise:
The sunrise is near,
The sunrise is coming,
And with it a horse as bright and golden as the sunrise.
Paul Revere
A silly poem–who knows how I came up with this one.
Paul Revere:
Paul Revere was an auctioneer,
Who lived on the frontier,
And every leap year,
Pierced his ear,
With a cashmere racketeer,
That is crystal-clear,
When struck with a spear,
Is loud and clear,
Heard all the way up in the stratosphere.
Old King Cole
This is another one of my silly poems. Done several years ago. For awhile there I was on quite a role for crazy poems.
Old King Cole:
Old King Cole is from the North Pole,
He has no heart and soul,
But he does have a son named Joel,
Who has a tadpole,
That lives in a fishbowl,
Out of which comes a flagpole,
Who does have a heart and soul.
SiennaTigerlily 