The sun awakens the grass of old, the grass that lived a fall ago.
It went from lush green to blondish brown, now it wants to turn around.
The sun awakens the man of old, the man than lived a day ago.
He went from laughing and happy to angry and down, now he wants to turn around.
The sun awakens, it has been told what it can do for the old.
It can create life from dead brown grass.
It can make you happy or make you laugh.
Turn around now let's see, could this really work for me?
Can I be happy, can I be green, can I live the life I dream?
The way to tell that hope's not gone is just to look into the dawn.
Life is great and it is fun, this all because of the sun.
Dean G. Jernigan
The spectacular mountain ranges in the distance are veiled in a mist of silky clouds. The surface of the spacious mountain range is a lustrous green like I have only seen in my most pleasurable dreams. Below the mountain, the luscious pineapple and succulent sugar cane fields are dwarfed by this skyward giants magnitude. In the distance I can see the delicate mist rising up from the turbulent ocean impacting the immovable mass formed by the volcanoes fury hundreds of years before. Looking closer I see the tender streams and thundering waterfalls caressing the mountain's beautiful face. I stop and stare transfixed by the beauty, this is paradise.
Dean G. Jernigan
I have often been told to beware of rough waters because of their undertow, but I never paid much attention. One afternoon at Gould's Inlet, off the shore of St. Simons Island, Georgia, I quickly learned the power of an undertow, When I was trying to learn to wind surf using, my cousin, Nick's board. I was concentrating so hard on trying to get the large limp sail up to catch the wind that I was not paying attention to where I was headed. I soon found my self approximately one hundred and eighty yards away from the nearest land. Still thinking I could make it to shore in plenty of time, I continued to try to get the big white sail up to catch the wind. Consequently I accomplished nothing but to drift further from civilization.
Looking towards the shore of the Atlantic, I saw people resembling the size of ants. This visual effect persuaded me to stop and proceed toward the shore. This action, I found, was too late because the treacherous tide tugged me toward Tangier. I yelled from the top of my lungs, using all of my breath, pleading for someone to call the Coast Guard. After the Coast Guard was notified, I was grasping the sailboard, waiting for rescue. About one hour, three jelly fish, and five sand sharks later, I was still grasping the sailboard, waiting for rescue. When the Coast Guard did finally arrive with a large yellow boat with big wheels, I was very grateful. Since that time I have always been wary of tides and their undertow.
Dean G. Jernigan
Sitting on a tall rocky bluff overlooking the Little River of southeastern Oklahoma, I watched the silent river slither through the slippery stones that made their home in the chocolate waters. A gentle wind caressed the fragrance from the needles of the pine trees for a pleasant rendezvous with my olfactory sense. I found this same wind that showed so much kindness also had a dark side. In gusts upcoming from a pool of stagnant water a vile stench emerged. Looking up from the river I noticed that the sky was divided in a definite line, half blue and half smoky white, both preparing for battle. As I watched this battle for domination I felt the results, wind blowing and trees swaying from the wind's effects. When the victor emerged, I felt the tears of defeat, from the blue side, cold upon my skin. I rose to my feet to run and find shelter because I heard the triumphant roars and saw the flashes of power from the smoky white ruler of the sky.
Dean G. Jernigan
Thanks for taking the time to share Dean's writing.
If you have comments or suggestions, email me at dgjerni@flash.net