Sleeping Bear

Prompt for: April 20, 2016 (fyn)
Subject or Theme: Today is Earth Day. Celebrate an awe inspiring natural wonder near where you live. BE DESCRIPTIVE!! Make us want to put it at the top of our list of places to see!
Word(s) to Include: stress, juxtaposition, at least one color except the following: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, white or black. (In other words, a synonym for one of them!) (or any derivatives of these words)
Forbidden Word(s): waterfall, canyon, desert, mountain, tree, beach, water, ocean, view, up, down (or any derivatives, compound or hyphenations of these words)
Additional Parameters: At least 24 lines. Remember, if you do not know a word, or unfamiliar with a word, look it up!
Remember, do not use forbidden words ANYWHERE, including title or the brief description.










Sleeping Bear

Furred with wild grasses, the dunes of somnolent ursis
tower majestically above Michi gami,
humped for miles, blown by gale force winds,
carved when ancient glaciers pushed into the plains.

Two islands off shore are said to be two cubs
who did not survive the swim from Wisconsin across the way,
the dune, the mother bear who sleeps to dream:
preserved forever by the Great God Manitou.

Wood-slated walking trail winds to lookout.
One could imagine at first sight
an inland sea for waves touch the sky,
crash thundering against the shore.

Foolhardy souls will run the thirty second surge, tumble,
to spend the next six hours attempting to scale the heights.
Most fail. Wallowing in defeat, stranded until rescued:
parched, exhausted, shamed.

Lilliputian to they atop the bluff, theirs has been called.
Manitou cautions against unnecessary action
as do wearied rangers. Words whipped away
to mingle with the cry of gull, red tailed hawk.

Setting orb bejewels. Silvered diamond treasure
glints in mauve, magenta, as clouds tinge, speak of fire.
In winter, glass-like panes of ice window in sheets
against the sand: juxtaposition of before and after.

Crushed quartz shimmers, refracting solar light.
Storms sand blast wooden rails to silky finish.
Wear sunglasses. I cannot stress this enough!
An abundance of light, palpable light.

Gritty, breathable light which then streams
out of westward peering eyes, trails off wisps
of wind-blown hair, radiates from faces:
here, one feels alive, light filled, light.

Nature's lighthouse, alabaster sands
reflecting the moon, landmark to they
who sailed by stars and sky. Like Dover's cliffs of chalk
they rise above the horizon, signal end of crossing.



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