Tag: #Quadrille

Morning Tears

“The morning was full of sunlight and hope.” ― Kate Chopin, The Awakening Morning tears and last night’s rainWhite jasmine dripping with dewA lazy snail saunters, sipping fresh waterAs hummingbirds dip their beaks deepInto throats of yellow trumpetsWhile early sun peeks through uncertain cloudsWondering if more rain… Continue Reading “Morning Tears”

#Quadrille: Simple Joys

“…and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”  ― Vincent Willem van Gogh Although there’s not much to celebratewith what’s happening these dayswe can always find joy in nature’s scenesTwo yellow butterflies at playTiny hummingbirds… Continue Reading “#Quadrille: Simple Joys”

Meditation on the Sanctity of Breath

A flock of dreams feastOn ancient buried memoriesSuch lush, verdant, fertile browseNourishes my weary souland feeds my ravenous spirit Each sacred breath,A river flowing over stonesTrickling through pulsing veins~Air- precious tether that binds me~Forever to life Author’s Note: Hi All and Happy Memorial Day.… Continue Reading “Meditation on the Sanctity of Breath”

Sanctuary for Dreams

“Good food is a benign weapon against the sodden way we live.”- Jim Harrison This bright room is one she never tires ofWhere the tastes of the world are at her fingertipsHappiness packed in square glass jarsExotic spices from India, Mexico, IndonesiaHer kitchen, a… Continue Reading “Sanctuary for Dreams”

Spring Sunrise

New sunrise-Paints pale horizon with wildflower colorsAnd eastern sky glowsin a meadow of tissue paper clouds Fragrant zephyr stirs waxy emerald leavesWhile spent blossoms slip from thorny lemon treeGrey mockingbird sings from high in the mesquite-As spring arrives dVerse Poets Pub: Quadrille #148 Papered… Continue Reading “Spring Sunrise”

Morning Serenade

Shivering leaves in morning breezeas breath forms whispering cloudsQuiet garden is still, creatures asleepunder warmth of fallen dead leaves. Yellow orbs cloaked in waxy greenon the gnarled lemon treewhile high in the lush mesquite,Grey-brown Thrasher sings to dawn. dVerse Poets Pub: Quadrille Monday

Her Crown

The crown she wore was nothing morethan an illustration of inner self-An ancient garden of floating butterfliesdancing in sundrenched air Where golden legged honeybeesget drunk on riotous wildflowerswoven together in an intricate mazeof stems and petals and leaves dVerse Poets Pub: Quadrille #145- Heady… Continue Reading “Her Crown”

%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this:
%d bloggers like this: