Perspectives through Prose, Poetry and Photography
Two shorelines clinging close to “Brightwood” lake, And wait so I may choose which path to take, For on the left a fisher-person’s dream, Sure footing, toss my line into the stream, But on the right a picnic spot awaits, And marshy coves where… Continue Reading “Shore Lines of Sight”
Bearing witness to the mostly-melted snow cover blanketing the yard, I allow thoughts of Spring to seep through the portal of my mind’s eye.
This week we are challenged to photograph a single object or scene from several angles. I selected the Tiki sculpture in the center of the newly renovated lobby of the Polynesian Village, at WDW. https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/from-every-angle/
While soaking in the wonder of a Berkshire sunrise, I was struck by the insistence of nature, evident in this tendril of new growth, clinging to the stone bridge over a babbling brook. “My Lord, What a Morning,”
On the way to Disney World with grandsons all in tow,
I spied some topiary bulls that looked like buffalo…
Broken Bedazzled by intensely tinted deck,   Resplendent splash that hides too well the stains        Of decades overrun with sad neglect, Knocking, cracking, warning ever plain.        E‘en deadly risk ignored by… Continue Reading “Broken”
Forces of Nature Bleak days tumbled into months un-sunned, The path lay dormant, absent footfall sound, Neath cloak of white, in stealth, the damage done. With man’s best friend, in tandem ’twas begun, Before the chill they’d set out, forest bound, Bleak days tumbled… Continue Reading “Forces of Nature”
I know it’s Spring because the brown hard soil beneath my feet, begins to greenish be, Before the morning light they’re chirping; all a-flutter as they gather in the trees. I know it’s Spring when safflower hulls and seeds Are strewn beneath my backyard feeding… Continue Reading “Spring In Motion”
The television screen appears to be suspended, as if “afloat” in my crystal goblet. In truth, world events are a bit easier to take, when viewed through the softening prism of a glass of my favorite Cabernet.