Tracy Haines

Untitled

Way above the valley,

On a cold and slippery climb

I set out with my sketchbook

In search of views divine.

Snowy, steep and city too,

I wondered often if I should turn my shoe.

But every switch of trail,

Each rocky hill I topped,

Rewarded me with scenes so fair the trail beckoned me to stop. When twice I slipped and once I fell

My countenance dip droop.

I remember then the mountain lions and thought I saw bear poop. By now well in an all alone and scared out of my mind,

I did no longer care to sketch,

I wanted home, a warm fire and wine.

Now safely back, thawed out and fine

From my studio I’ll paint the divine.

Untitled

Now back to winter in all of its glory

Pleases the soul using paint to tell story

Each season its beauty as in life so in art

The struggle is worth it cold fingers warm heart

Untitled

Nearly frozen creek

How sweet the silent sound

of swiftly moving water

stilled by icy ground

Untitled

This creek upon a walk I saw Through which a bit of snow did thaw Down to the little spot I sat

And pondered how I might paint that

Untitled

Today I trode a mile in snow Searching for that light, you know? At last upon a scene I chanced

It caught my breath

I laughed, I danced

Untitled

Thick and juicy strokes that say

Let us give thanks to God this day For beauty of this life and earth Words fail brush speaks

Yes, words a dearth!

Untitled

Those who live

in Colorado know

The beauty of willows

amidst fresh fallen snow

Warm against cool,

Here color, there gray

These things make a painting

Think I’ll paint one today

Untitled

Atop these subtle Colors

easy rests the eye

Greys pave the way a backdrop

for the brilliant saturated sky

Untitled

Easy come easy go

so swiftly so transient

the falling snow.

On jagged rock and fallen tree

It comes to rest so tenderly

Through here in Colorado

Simply count to 10

So soon the sun comes out

So soon the snow gets thing

Untitled

I fall short

of words to say

That give justice to the beauty of day so instead

I shut my mouth

I pick up brush

Paint facing south

Untitled

I tried thrice

to make this painting nice

In frustration threw brush down

(On my face an ugly frown)

Re-energized I picked up pen Decided I’d try to write again Eventually though I did succeed

In bringing this painting up to speed

Untitled

Hick Dick doc

I wish I had a Clock

I painted till 10

And burnt the Hen

The fam had to eat ham hock

Untitled

I’d like to paint the land at night Can’t see my paint, so little light From memory perhaps I could

But after 50 no more so good

Untitled

Crisp yet warm winter

Patterned snow meets grassy knoll Painters pepper land

Untitled

Dusk is but fleeting

The colors ephemeral

Elusive you’d say?