In My Garden

Mexican Sunflower and Milkweed

Chrysalis

In my garden, I meditate to the sound of buzzing bees while Venus watches over me

Lizards scurry on gray brick walls, chasing one another, while tiny hatchings explore with their sisters and brothers

The roses are blooming now, and they remind me of my mother, for she is here in the crisp cool air, floating free everywhere

The desert milkweed is chest high, waiting for the butterflies, laying eggs, bearing caterpillars who will leave plants stripped bare,

But not before wispy seed pods burst, take flight into the Autumn air

And there, hanging by a delicate thread, a chrysalis on a stone, the first one seen of this season, swaying in the soft breeze

Life moves on and time slows, here in my garden of peace

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Real Toads: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/11/wordy-saturday-with-wild-woman-places.html

Poet’s United: http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2018/11/poetry-pantry-429.html

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Autumn Lamplight

silence on the path-

golden autumn lamplight glows

geckos rustle leaves

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2018/11/carpe-diem-1544-autumn-lamplight-aki-no.html

Alabaster Goddess

She rises up in pink morning dawn, alabaster Goddess of trees,  pushing open her bountiful sweet scented blooms to feed butterflies and hoarding bees


She’s not shy about her nakedness, but stands tall and proud, for the blossoms and leaves surround her in a velvet blushed shroud


At her feet grows a bevy of floral essence dreams, a tapestry over her delicate roots, sheltered they are to dig deep into earth, to flourish and spread tendrils and green shoots


For hers is a life of bountiful wonder, as she strives to renew Mother earth, filling every season with color and wonder, offering each a sweet rebirth.

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

https://helenevaillant.com/2018/11/13/what-do-you-see-nov-13-2018/

Lone Sentinel

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lone sentinel stands Read More

Bursting Autumn

 

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Image found on Pinterest

bursting with brilliance Read More

The Fine Art of Aging

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Some days these fingers ache when holding my writing lead
or perhaps it’s my soul keening, wallowing in woe,
How much more must a heart spill with words in black repose
Does not your fingers bleed when grasping too tight the memory of the thorny rose?

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Saffron Dreams

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Cool days

delicious breeze Read More

Wordless Wednesday

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Gazing ball with Lavender in my garden

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Enchanted

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-Ingrid Endel

Maeve had been watching him for months, and knew the exact moment when he stepped into the cloistered woods. Unbeknownst to him, she followed his every move, for Maeve had fallen in love, and she wanted him, heart and soul.

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Rainstorm

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scent of rotting leaves Read More

Cricket

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Fire bolts in night sky Read More

Frenzy

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The feverous passion of a stormy night

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