Charlene Long
Mixed media Artwork
Your upchurning waves downcrashing The sun's red pulses beat Up on the hills against the sky Here's to the days that are coming
Your upchurning waves downcrashing The sun's red pulses beat Up on the hills against the sky Here's to the days that are coming
Summer is lying asleep today The pine trees whispering Through branches gaunt and black That her fingertips are dusting
Summer is lying asleep today The pine trees whispering Through branches gaunt and black That her fingertips are dusting
And calm embrace of silence Into the crimson portals ajar In clouds of colouring that run wine-like along the rim of day A gusty freshening of humid air
And calm embrace of silence Into the crimson portals ajar In clouds of colouring that run wine-like along the rim of day A gusty freshening of humid air
August is laughing across the skies Like a breeze through branches sifting Another  day set free I hear the call of the singing firs I
August is laughing across the skies Like a breeze through branches sifting Another day set free I hear the call of the singing firs I
I hear the call of the singing firs II When the firs finger faintly on the strings The firs, weirdly black bare that stand with great strength The dawn, grey garbed and velvet shod, is wandering everywhere
I hear the call of the singing firs II When the firs finger faintly on the strings The firs, weirdly black bare that stand with great strength The dawn, grey garbed and velvet shod, is wandering everywhere
The Northern Lights dance down her plains with soft and silvery feet Yet I am not alone . . . Solitude The Morning Trees
The Northern Lights dance down her plains with soft and silvery feet Yet I am not alone . . . Solitude The Morning Trees
From Boulder Unto Boulder Sing to us cedars; your voice is so lowly Waiting for the Storm The plover's passing wing, his lullaby
From Boulder Unto Boulder Sing to us cedars; your voice is so lowly Waiting for the Storm The plover's passing wing, his lullaby
Sing to us cedars; the night wind is sighing And here's to the days that are coming As coming suns dissolve the dark that veils the edge of day Before the Storm
Sing to us cedars; the night wind is sighing And here's to the days that are coming As coming suns dissolve the dark that veils the edge of day Before the Storm
Purple shadows tell of dawn Of great cool drops that fall with sudden splash There are fires on Lulu Island and the smoke uplifting lingers The cedars chanting vespers to the sea
Purple shadows tell of dawn Of great cool drops that fall with sudden splash There are fires on Lulu Island and the smoke uplifting lingers The cedars chanting vespers to the sea
Sing to us cedars; the twilight is creeping. The rocks give shelter that the sands deny The cedar trees have sung their vesper hymn The Two Sisters
Sing to us cedars; the twilight is creeping. The rocks give shelter that the sands deny The cedar trees have sung their vesper hymn The Two Sisters
What of the days when we two dreamed together      Days marvelously fair. A sky of blue and grey, Some stormy clouds that play All the day long the vapours played. At Blindfold in the city streets Framed in the salt sea winds
What of the days when we two dreamed together Days marvelously fair. A sky of blue and grey, Some stormy clouds that play All the day long the vapours played. At Blindfold in the city streets Framed in the salt sea winds
Waves that foam and fall and lift Night of mid-June — in heavy vapours dying And April dawned with suns aflame As sinks the sun within that world of wine
Waves that foam and fall and lift Night of mid-June — in heavy vapours dying And April dawned with suns aflame As sinks the sun within that world of wine
The long, long night has been bitter and lone but now 'tis gone Longing for Daybreak And a crystal garment o'er her Dawn lights her candles in the east once more
The long, long night has been bitter and lone but now 'tis gone Longing for Daybreak And a crystal garment o'er her Dawn lights her candles in the east once more
The silence of the sands when tides are low And she - between the ocean and the town My ear can scarcely catch that whispered note
The silence of the sands when tides are low And she - between the ocean and the town My ear can scarcely catch that whispered note