Joan Tarbell Plato

A River Runs Through

Flowing fast, a river runs through

Granite rocks stand prominent

In randomized patterns

As brilliant cool Tiber spray

Greets them each new day!

These fast moving currents

Intersect with the mighty Patapsco

Beyond the railroad bridge

To soon meet our renown Chesapeake Bay

Eventually joining with the giant Atlantic.

Visitors now pass by, all anxious to see

Colorful, unique specialty shops

Their eyes sparkling bright with afternoon glee

Viewing ECPops and Art, Gramps Books

Hi Ho Silver and green tea!


 Main Street Storm

Weathered rocky banks await

As storm clouds move in

And winds pickup as

Torrents of rain pour down

Upon the vibrant village.

Vehicles move swiftly down main street

And shoppers hasten to their cars

As the blackened sky

Moves steadily forward now

Painting ominous shadows.

The restless waves on the Tiber

Grow massive

Gathering unbelievable momentum

So rapidly

As monster torrents of water

Cascade down the nearby hills

Carrying cars now

In a gushing river

Formed by this vicious storm

All flying down main street

As humans scramble for safety

Above … anywhere

Fleeing these most devastating

Black avalanche storm waters

Overlaying in minutes

Our most precious Ellicott City.


Rosehill Morning

The pristine white mansion sits comfortably

Amidst its glorious gardens with brilliant fuchia blossoms

Standing tall, stretching their new necks

Up to morning cobalt skies.

Clustered near, the summer orange lilies

Reach out

As earth opens its refreshing arms.

The orchard behind with hundreds of apple blooms

Soon to break forth, beckons,

Cushioning, as

Sauntering “en plein air” painters

Wading in spring grass, while bees buzz

Spot their delight and unfold

Voluminous supplies

About to commence

Their creative translations

Of this precious oasis.

Sparrows run now across the azure skies

Peony bushes wave


As splendid diamonds shine

Amidst their lofty blooms.


The Seashore

Can one tame a coastline

As faraway storms blast in

And hammer sandy beaches for days

Usurping the sands

Realigning the coast

With torrents of wind and rain

Tossing seashells on high?

Treking the beach daily

I absorb the shoreline changes

Hundreds of shells one day

Minuscule the next.

Some mornings crisp wet air

Refreshes my face.

Other days humid sweat

Rolls streams off my forehead.

Battalions of terns

Often stand willful in lines

A few darting up and out

Into the soft morning winds.

The sea tosses and turns

Leaving its green moss and broken shells.

And sometimes a whole fish

Provides breakfast for gulls.

Tame a coastline – never!

The sting of flying sand now

Hits me square in the eyes

As these sand rivets flaunt

Their sculptural repetitive patterns

Down this elongated seashore.

Out amidst, the waves, hounded by the winds

Flow in angled even patterns towards shore.

The hearty pelicans now fly low

Diving rapidly vertical for early lunch

As white egrets trail close on their backs

Hoping to catch a morsel.


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