Whispering Voices of the Seasons
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​The voices of nature, are but whispers and you must listen carefully to hear the quiet rhymes they weave amid the beauty of the changing seasons.

" I AM"

Published in “A Surrender to the Moon” The International Library of Poetry
Copyright 2005
By Doreen Marilyn Koziara
Pseudonym Dorae Shae

​I Am
By Doreen Marilyn Koziara
Pseudonym Dorae Shae

I am a sheath of grain,
my kernels plump and full,
my golden leaves
in the Autumn winds do blow.
Soon harvest time will come,
and the rest of my life
will have begun.
 
Some of kernels will be feed,
to give the cows the food they need.
Some of my kernels will be bread,
to keep the men and women fed.
Some of my kernels will stay behind,
for better seed you will not find.
In the spring I will be sown,
and with the summer’s sun and rain
by fall I will have grown,
To be a sheath of grain!

Artist Profile: ( 2005) Doreen Marilyn Koziara: Breton, Alberta
( Pseudonym: ( 2019) Dorae Shae: Leduc, Alberta)
My birth in a tiny homestead house on the farm where my parents still live today, was in fact, the planting of my roots. I am certain of this, for I feel most complete and at peace when I am on the farm.  No matter how harsh the reality of rural life, I can always  find beauty in the land and the seasons, the uniqueness of which is second only to the selfless determination and caring spirit of the farmer whose skilled hands feed the masses.  I respectfully dedicate “ I Am” to farmers everywhere. 
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SCARECROW 
By Doreen Grzyb-Koziara: Pseudonym Dorae Shae

I stand and watch your garden grow,
 I am a “SCARECROW”.
Your seeds were planted in the Spring,
and that new straw hat for me, it was thoughtful of you to bring.
Now I gently frighten away the fawn,
​ who brings her mom and come at dawn.
And I can always scare that big brown hare.
Even the hawk is afraid of me and won’t steal from the cherry tree.
When it rained in July, you thought to keep me dry,
and I was quite a sight in that yellow raincoat so bright.
The umbrella helped a lot, and people passing by would stop.
When the weather got hot, a big sun hat you brought.
Some shaded glasses too and a bright shirt of pink and blue.
“I sure was a sharp look’n dude.”
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When it was Fall you brought your old coveralls
and that bright blue tie, you got for a gift, 
​really gave my spirits quite a lift.
People would stop awhile, and it felt good to make them smile.
When the nights grew cold, you brought me out a heavy coat,
and some winter boots, some nice warm mitts and a touque.
So, when down the road you go, and you see this SCARECROW,
In my “country duds” so fashionable,
Be sure to stop and say “HELLO!”
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Autumn Leaves
By Doreen Grzyb-Koziara
Pseudonym: Dorae Shae

The Summer green of the trees
has turned to Autumn leaves.
Shades of red, brown, and gold,
a beautiful sight to behold.
A ribbon in auburn hue,
against the Autumn sky of blue.
The warm wind was gentle too,
for he knew what he must do.

​Maybe tomorrow, or the next day,
he’d blow these Autumn leaves away.
“Not too soon ,” said the man in the Moon,
and the lady of the Sun asked to finish
what she’d begun.
And so, these three did agree
this harvest season ​ not to rush, 
and keep the Autumn Leaves for us. 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

This log home was built in the Keystone area near Breton, Alberta in the early 1900's by black homesteaders from Oklahoma.