Lowlands

Going past the lines of trees in the low lands

Single thought comes across my mind

It was the day we gently held hands 

With no word or meaning to find

The crunch of snow in blue sky morning

We laughed at whatever each said

Then by noon with each of us leaving

A farewell kiss put this love to bed

A woodland dream

A lake of steam

The silent answer

A field of corn

A love forlorn

The hidden cancer

And in the end

You were my friend

The pretty dancer

In the long lines of trees in the low lands

My soul refreshed with memories

It was as if I could feel your hands 

I never thanked you for the stories.

by Dave Schipper (c) 2018 Rose Riversongs.

Indelibly

Incredibly soft.

Yes that’s how I know

Your lips, your hair.

Indelibly graceful

You, as you pass by

Mere feet away

Stunningly simple

Earth tones suit you well

From the sweater to scarf

Suspiciously quiet

In the middle of the dim

You’re the eye of my heart

Purely joyful

Pull up a chair and rest

Smile and raise a glass

With me.

By Dave Schipper © 2013 Rose Riversongs

River Kate

We’re struck by the moon, listenin to the loon
A backwater tune that leaves us to soon

Oh River Kate
Let’s stay out to late, says the moon and the lake.
Oh River Kate
Got some time to wait, It’s sure no mistake.

The stories to tell, neath the old willow.
They got the same feel, as our own pillow.
Leave the bills behind, you don’t need a dime
I’ve got some wine, and we’re doin’ fine.

Midnight eyes, tender sighs
Warm embrace, little lace

Oh River Kate
Let’s stay out to late, says the moon and the lake.
Oh River Kate
Got some time to wait, It’s sure no mistake.

So we’re just moon struck, sittin in the truck
Whistlin with the loon, then leavin to soon.

River Kate by Dave Schipper © Rose River Songs 2004

The tree

The tree on Fourth and Main
Will turn 80 next week.
Of course the passerby’s
Don’t know or care;
But she did just like
Yesterday.

She was turning 87
Next week and feeling
A step away from heaven
Yet the memory is fresh
Right after school the first
Warm day.

Eighty years ago in spring
Dad said, “We need a tree
Out there this year.”
Mom wanted blossoms
Something purple
And bright.

Dad wanted just a steady oak,
She exclaimed “no shade for years,
And just attracts squirrels”
Ah but we’re here
For the long haul and
He won.

Dad nurtured the tree making
It stronger every year until
It stands tall in a city
Still small overlooking the
Mighty Mississippi
From a hill

So she sighs looking out the window
Its cloudy and no one will come
No visitors today but that’s ok,
Alone like that oak
She sits tall and ponders
Her history.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversongs

Rising Eagle

Earth’s heart beat pulses inside
The century’s stories are etched in stone.
The sky is within my arm’s reach
While I walk my spiritual path alone.

Pierce my heart
Release the stars
My spirit’s found
My hidden path
Pierce my heart
And I will start
Singing songs
All journey long

I listen to the choir of nature.
Surrounded in smoke from a distant fire
I take on wings and ascend high
Above the pines and mighty fir

Above the trees I see the truth
The great one is in harmony with us
She’s writing a story in epic length
But I worry we’ve lost her trust.


by Dave Schipper © 2007 Rose Riversongs

Willow....

Willow look at yourself.
When you were born no one could have forseen.
You would turn out more like a scrub pine.

So you are not majestic.
Tall and stunning with long blonde branches
Hanging over a slow moving creek.

You live as a lone tree,
An individual on a grand mountain side.
Providing a source of life to many.

Willow you soften reality.
Basking in God’s glory, you’re a pillow
A small humble respite of joy.

By Dave Schipper © 2009 Rose Riversongs
Photo Credits