By a beaver dam I saw you Perfectly formed Standing alone Tiny, yet grown Waiting to be adorned Stature so true Along the stream I gathered Flowers in seed Gossamer garlands Leaves like star hands Simplicity my creed Raw beauty mattered Reflected in the stream surely Standing proudly Humbly festooned My tree says soon We’ll […]
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Look at the changes as Nature prepares to slumber. You’ll see Skeletons everywhere. They remind us of how death is a major part of life. Rest well, and be ready for re-birth. Ever notice how bare trees look like skeletons? In a Winter’s wind is the Dance Macabre. Are they animated by the residual warmth
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Jesse Tree The Jesse Tree is tool for preparation for Christmas. The name comes from Jesse of Bethlehem, King David’s father, and the quote from Isaiah 11:1, “… a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse,” which foretells the coming of the Messiah. The beginning of Matthew’s and Luke’s gospels mentions both Jesse and
Having cast off emerald garments Trees shamelessly flaunt their nakedness Swaying in the ever colder winds Of November Imparting scanty warmth to upturned faces and Golden kisses upon Queen Anne’s Lace Slanted sunlight throws the long shadows Of November Standing as sentry at field’s edges Lone cornstalks mourn fallen comrades Twisted and mangled on the
Excuse me Mr. Pumpkin, I couldn’t help but see How flawless is your rind As orange as can be And now I really must tell you Though slightly shy to say Please don’t take this wrong It’s a compliment I’ll pay My intentions are truly genuine I mean no hurt or harm When I say
I was born on a farm, so gardening is just a part of me. I’ve joked that I have mud in my veins instead of blood. If my fingernails aren’t dirty by evening in the spring, summer and fall, then it’s not been a good day. The garden (vegetable or flower) is my happy place.
Along road edges and throughout fallow fields By the hundreds you see them The spicy mustard color of Goldenrods. One’s first reaction to seeing them Is to gasp at the spectacle, so Overwhelming is the color of Goldenrods What once possessed just various shades of green Now have the tones of sunshine That deep summer
What I like about the novelists on my list is their use of language. There is an economy that I wish I could duplicate. I may not like what they write, but I like how they write. I am transported, hearing, seeing, smelling the written word. It is thrilling. The historical fiction is evocative of
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I wanted to reimagine the Stations from a personal point of view, in order to breathe new life into them for me. As I began to think about the best way to do this, an image of the early Christians gathered in the Catacombs came into my mind. I envisioned them telling stories to one
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