Friday 10 May 2024

Five Poems by Susan Mayer Brumel


circle of seasons


rain drips soft

on green grass

loud in bucket


fevered foliage

imposes and crowds

-  summer boughs out


painted branches

flaunt then tumble

- autumn leaves


snowy tempest’s

coveted land

- winters over


warming earth’s

elysian snowdrop

- springs up


rain drips soft

on green grass

loud in bucket



Lullaby of Many Moons


One night I walked the foggy wood,

beneath a five moon cluster;

Observing it through leafy hood,

charmed by its golden lustre


Sleepy thicket, quiet and still

but for the tree frogs on the boughs;

The air was musky, dank and chill-

a fear in me it did arouse


Impervious path, I had to kick

away the thick and thorny vines;

I held fast to my walking stick,

and carried on toward the pines


The moons then shone more bright than day,

as if five suns were in the sky

A trail they painted for my way;

their comfort to me did abide


When from the forest’s edge I looked,

there, in the clearing, boldly stood

a buck whose massive antlers shook

to warn of something dire afoot


Most careful not to make a sound,

my body quaked in discontent;

I quickly turned myself around

and back into the wood I went…


The five moons led me to a field

where wildflowers dance into the night;

-No need to tame away the weald

of thick and thorny vines that bite


Instead, I laid my body down

upon a tufted quilt of blooms,

and fell asleep to whispered sounds-

a lullaby of many moons



Time’s Comedic Architect


The vision in the mirror illustrates

reflections of an aging woman’s face

Gnarled lines enshrine the many years embraced

But starlight in her eyes still radiates


The lips are pale and drawn a little thin

The teeth once bright have grown a wee bit dim

The jawline softly hangs with sleepy skin

But faithfully, her beauty glows within


The thickened neck still holds the head erect

The arms and hands are weak, with frail effect

The breasts no longer plump, profiles detect

But she laughs at time’s comedic architect!


The dimpled belly sits a little round

Upon the hips more padding can be found

Downy wisps grow scanty on the mound

But longings deep within her still abound


Once shapely legs have lost their sex appeal

Swollen knees make it difficult to kneel

The ankle bones more often are concealed

But her feet yet strong, still walk her through the weald


The aging woman’s changing self belies

greys and wrinkles that are but the years’ disguise

Brilliance emanates yet, from her thoughtful eyes

And her brave and youthful spirit still abides



On High


Like ribbons on a kite,

I am taken to the sky

Surrendering to flight,

as curls of clouds drift by


Upon uplifting winds,

I am traveling higher still

Far from a life that’s been,

and not against my will


No worries weigh me down

in obsessive, doleful thought

By no burdens am I bound,

no hopeless feelings wrought


Soft the air, and lighter,

boundless skies cerulean blue

As sun shines even brighter,

old mem’ries fade from view


Beyond its mortal being,

my timeless spirit climbs

By revealing light I’m seeing,

as if for the first time


Ethereality is blissful,

My spirit-heart beats free

Hereafter ever peaceful-

On high, eternally



Of Dreams and Time



If age dulls not

the sense of time

or passion poised

on poem’s rhyme

then in my dreams

when slumber comes

I’ll see myself

forever young


If sunset lulls

the world to sleep

and dawn

within her breast,

light keeps

then as I wake

if light I see

a world of peace

will ever be -

But if I wake

to darkening sky

and dawn’s bright light

not in my eye

then back to sleep

with hope in me

to dream of

better days to be


If tulip touches

lips of spring

in dreams of warmth

that springtime brings

then when it blooms

with colour bright

will warm the chill

of darkest night


If treetops tickle

skies of blue

and sunlit stars

fall onto you

then you will see

beyond your dream

stars not ever

what they seem


If fire crackles

through the wood

and leaves its scent

where trees once stood

then I will breathe

the smoke of sleep

and in my dreams

their essence keep

Susan Mayer Brumel retired from a thirty-five year career in hospice social work a few years ago, at which time she began writing poetry. Susan's work is inspired by the journeys of her patients, the compelling beauty of nature, and the human condition. She also enjoys music, long walks in the forest, flower arranging, and jumping in puddles with her grandchildren. Susan lives in New Jersey with her husband and Bernese Mountain Dog, Dottie.


  1. I’m a fan and follow this poet’s works. It astonishes me how beautiful and unique and meaningful each of her individual poems are; and it equally astonishes me how they collectively complement one another … what a book they would make.

    Such a delight to find her here. Of these works, I really enjoyed “Lullaby of Many Moons”—a poem worthy of committing to memory.

    1. Thank you very much for your kind words and thoughtful commentary about my poetry…
      They are most appreciated.


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