Micah Park Biffle

 Maiden of the Lake    I swear I saw her, the maiden of the lake. I saw her on a late night walk as I passed behind a distant row of trees. My heart beat irregular that night. Something pulled my eyes toward the glimmering lake, I remember vividly.  The night was brisk, the stars shimmered from the sky as their light laid upon the lake like cream. Glittering to the gentle waves created by the oh so bitter wind. My hands rested stiffly in my pockets as I tried to keep warm.  My thoughts were lonely, a cold crisp pattern of thinking yanked my already stressed mind. But as I was walking, battling the torment of my thoughts. The odd sense to veer my eyes toward the mirroring lake led me to see her. To witness the magic I have only heard of.   It was surreal, nothing could have accounted for a more brilliant and magical moment. It was beautiful, a captivating wonder. Nothing could describe what I saw, a woman fair of everything. A woman so vivid of ...

   An Artist's Touch    How lovely she be, her hair curling beneath her blossoming hat. The gentle kempt design of each strain. The dark glow against the morning sun as her dark hair rests upon her shoulders. Dangling like threads of silk. Divine I say, absolutely divine.   Her eyes, their complexion spill with the delicacy of the soul. Spilling like colors of the morning sun against a glistening sea. I can feel her presence even when we are distant in stare. Their vibrant collection of life, how much she has lived in such little space, such short time.   My brush, carefully stroking against the canvass with passion. Allowing her existence to become the reality of this art. Her art, her, she is everything. How wild her curves play against the contrast of this world. Nature bares much, but there is no competition to be had.  For even nature shows she'd be foolish to rival such beauty. Her skin, smooth as the melting light from an evening mo...

Fall Gloom Beauty of Gray    Death has come upon our summer days. Slain are the days of warm mornings and nights of a cool breeze. We are now upon the lips of fall, slowly consumed till we are in the bitter embrace of winter.  The once open skies are now the victims of the dreary. The frigid gasp of October and the sinking eyes of November. We are now unkindly taken by darkness before our eyes open. The grey skies glaze our souls in the dim.  Our hearts become heavy as the drizzle of sorrowed clouds weep upon our streets. Our steps become cautious as we keep weary to pools of rain. Quickly can our days become uncomfortable as the steady weeping of the sky gives no hope of silence.  But in these bleak and colorless months, there is much between the grey; the cold and frozen. There are colors that only fall can birth. Oranges that cripple a leaf but bring sight to a dying season. There are moments so close to those we love, that summer cringes in jealo...

   French Lilac's   The garden wraps around the home with a captive appearance. It's intrinsically designed pattern gives the home a sense of comfort, swaddled in a maze of French Lilac. As green hedges form accompanying the Lilac, coupled by a pattern of evenly spaced feathery Cabbage Rose's. Their delicate and pronounced appearance give such an alluring feel.  Among the maze of French Lilac's sits calculated in presentation, other wondrous flowers and plants. Small and carefully attended to, are planters giving birth to the natural beauty of nature. This garden is everything and nothing all at the same time.  It holds no real meaning but to grasp the attention of curious eyes. The deeper you travel into the maze the more wonders your senses take in. You find things you have never seen before. You find flowers hidden beneath the trooping of sunflowers as they try their best to be the attention of all.  Their longs necks preceding the dista...

Three Red Horses  Three red horses and a horizon to match. A wonderful world, a wonderful sight. But in this beauty, between the glorious light and the everglades of nature, lies something else. Something dark, something sinister. These three red horses ride to the out reach of our vision. We watch them sink the blazing haze of the sun. Becoming nothing but a fading silhouette of elegance. As we watch them fade, the world around us becomes of a fire of its own.  Unwavering anger pours upon our home. It cannot be explained, except that what is happening before us, is the consequence of natures lack of sympathy. It has been nine weeks since a drop of rain has fallen. The animals have fled, even the snakes have found homes elsewhere. We have become barren, we have lived off this land in peace. Yet here we stand, forced to face the rage of earth. It's heart has become heated and it wishes for us to cede to its wild temperament.  Our crops, gone, our hom...

A View That Changed His Mind I opened the door to an abandoned church, it was just before sunrise. As I opened the door a swarm of doves came flying out. I was quickly caught off guard by the unsuspecting flock. But in the short stint of startled fear I regained my composure quite swiftly. I realized what an alluring moment it was to be a part of this. An almost fantasy like moment, one you would read in a book. It was amazing, not because the doves were beautiful in their own. But everything that was captured within it. The church itself of a true piece of architectural beauty. Each stone was perfectly placed to create a very divine symmetry. The stained glass windows embraced the light with such glory; reds, blues, and yellows bent through the windows with perfection. An array of shapes and figures were graciously melded into the glass. They almost appeared to be as if they were alive but frozen within the colors of the glass. Even the entrance itself held a mighty glori...