Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Snow Geese At Bosque Del Apache.

Snow Geese and friends in a panic wave. Just a few seconds more all the geese will be in the air. They will circle around a bit and quickly land back where they were. During this time is what I have been waiting for, some action. copyright Tom Stanley Janca .25 per sq. in.

Collector By Tom Stanley Janca

I know it is in my genes,
To collect lots of things.
To make the world a better place,
But don't complain about my space.
This box of screws, my spool of wire,
Just stacks of things that I admire.
Sort and stack, count and clean,
I am a lean mean collecting machine.
Come see me tomorrow,
If you want to buy or borrow.
If you need something now your out of luck.
Everything is buried and stuck.
When I need a part to finish my job.
I know I have it but I soon sob.
To dig it out is such a chore.
It's just easier to go to the store.
Copyright Tom Stanley Janca 2004

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Eagles Nest By Tom Stanley Janca

When eagles could carry little boys away.
It happened to me one day.
I'm only here because of the bargain I made.
I swore I would hurt them no more.
I did laughed and mocked them,
Like it was my job to chase them away,
But not no more.
I thought I was big and they couldn't get me,
But not no more.
I Shot at them high in their nest with my sling shot,
But not no more.
I heard them squeal and squawk, when one stood up tall.
I remember his eyes he looked at me square.
He spread his very large wings and dove straight for me,
He wouldn't dare.
My life flashed before me and I knew I was wrong.
I dove between the rocks and held on so long.
The eagle swooped down and I could tell he was sore.
In that moment I swore I would hurt them no more.

Copyright Tom Stanley Janca 2004

Pomagranet By tom Stanley Janca


I ate a pomegranate today,

A big red ripe one.

I ate every little red ripe piece.

I did not count the time.

I had a thousand in my life,

Not one had been so fine.


Coyrignt Tom Stanley Janca 2004

Fast Ride, Sore Thumb By Tom Stanley Janca

Once I rode a big white race horse,
Pay Girl, was her name.
Stood 14 hands high,
Was a lot bigger then I.
I had lots of fun.
Until she started to run.
I didn't know.
How really fast she could go.
at 90 miles an hour I fell off her rump.
Thrown in the air oh! What a bump.
The first thing to hit that old dirt road was my left thumb.
It was three years before it was numb.
A true story I swear.
Leonard and Richard were there.
But they just rode right on.
They didn't know I was gone.

Copyright Tom Stanley Janca 2004

Ancient Ones At Dutch Woman Butte By Tom Stanley Janca

It happened at Dutch Woman Butte.
This story you cannot dispute.
With my very own eyes, I saw with such surprise.
Across the lake, high up the canyon, one white puffball cloud appeared.
No problem, My opinion.
It wasn't very big and was far away.
I didn't think it would bother me today.
But! The water turned Black, a change in the wind made me look back.
It was 5 miles wide and 9 miles high.
One perfect thunderstorm filled up the sky.
The wind blew hard the water turned white.
I ran for cover but not out of sight.
A waterfall poured right out of the bottom.
When I noticed the ancient ones dancing around the column.
Flashing their lighting from the bottom to the top.
For thirty minutes their drums didn't stop.
I rubbed my eyes and tried not to imagine.
Were they real I could not fathom.
Finally they all faded into a gray mist.
What a show I did not miss.

copyright Tom Stanley Janca 2005

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Dark Mountain By Tom Stanley Janca

Just a shadow against the evening sky.
Dark mountain looks so smooth.
What wondrous places I've been today,
The creeks, the springs, the old mine shaft
The rock cabin by the gold quartz ore vein.
The wild life in their home, I remember their sounds, their colors and names.
I still hear the wind songs though the trees and see the grass dance in the breeze.
See their colors of greens and golds. Move with a rhythm that's soothing and old.
I smell all the flowers, yellow, red ,white and blue and all the fresh air I remember that too!
Adventure done! Now back to town.
Each step up and each step down was not so smooth as it looks now.

Trout For Dinner By Tom Stanley Janca

Pitter pat, pitter pat, the rain on the car roof sounded like that.
Woke from my nap by the lightning loud snap, pitter pat, pitter pat.
The sky is now dark, with rain all about.
My dad is down stream catching a trout.
The wind was huffing and puffing way up the hill.
Pine trees were bowing out in he field.
Pitter pat, pitter pat, to pow, pow, pow, pow,
when big white marbles started to fall.
The rain turn to hail and ground turn to white
and it's cold as the snow and almost night.
Pow, pow, pow, pow, I am still real warm I stayed in the car.
Dad, he is still catching those fish, you know how they are.
Knock, knock, knock, knock, on the car window door.
Please let me in , I don't want to fish anymore.
See all my trout, ten big ones today.
It's time to warm up and have trout for dinner, what do you say?
Pitter pat, pitter pat, I knew he was going to say that.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Amazing Earth By Tom Stanley Janca

Amazing earth, how blue it is. Our home in the milky way.
The sun, the earth, moon and stars, made us what we are today.
Here on earth green fields stretch across the land.
Tall trees kiss the sky where ever they can.
Deserts too, I must declare as far as one can see.
And day by day there made new, as the wind blows them out to sea.
Oceans, lakes, rivers and streams sculpts the world it seems.
Changing its face each night and day. Beautiful you say!
It's just that way.
People, farms, villages, town and cities dot the land almost everywhere.
Roads, rails and airplane trails, link from here to there.
We are all different yet all alike, no matter where were from.
Just like the stars in space, the billions of the human race.
Our hope is to make the world a better place, to keep our partnerships with all life! alive.
Thank you, thank you all that be. If all of you could know! It's just amazing to know where we are in all this space, don't you see.

The Fisher By Tom Stanley Janca


One day when I was at the sea, this old pelican said to me.
I love to fish. I love to fly. I love to take a dip.
I love to catch those little fish and swallow them with a flip.
I love to turn around and turn around and shake my tale and flutter.
Now it's time to go and fly and fish, and dive into the water.
I love to fish. I love to fly. I love to take a dip.
I love to catch those little fish and have them for my supper.
I love to turn around and turn around and shake my tail and flutter.
Now it's time to go, a kick, a step, I'm in the air, it's time to leave the water.
Into the air into the sea a thousand times or more.
Now you know why? I sit on this rock it is to rest upon the shore.