Category: Photo Friday

America

Blooming outward, scrolls ‘tween swirls embed, Simplicity of form each rounded side, In shades of palest blue and pastel red, Each going its own way yet unified. Symbolic of the majesty it hides beneath its vault, the chambers of our state, Tempestuous tempers, diff’rences…

Uncertainty

Around the wide, wide world this afternoon, ‘neath searing sun and darkening shade, a storm, It gathered, silent, ominous, it loomed, So sudden, interrupting mindless norms. We journeyed on, ignoring what could come, No choice but journey on to foreign shores, With backward glancing,…

By the Sea

Glancing o’er my shoulder, golden glimmer, green-white shards with petals lithe and awesome, Shining ‘gainst the sunrise walk a-shimmer, Striking, spiking splendor: beachside blossom.

Chaleur d’Amour

Even here,  though out of view as yet, unseen its singular scent  enwraps my  senses; Romantic Irrepressible Unforgettable. Causing me  to pause, to full inhale, as visions of a long ago  invade and deep pervade  my mind; Beautiful Serene Green. A young man  shyly…

Tiny Treasure Trove

Shimmering, shining, strewn upon the shore,   Mollusks wrapped with gem-like stones adorned,      Awaiting to be scooped and swept aloft,         Later; tiny remnant on the shore,            Lovely still, enclosing life no more. Photo…

Peaceful Pause

An afternoon with nought to do but perch amid the verdant lush, on cushioned bench, My doggie and my camera, neath the birch, Watching chipmunks digging out their trench. When in a flash, a wave of black descended Upon the branches far as I…

A Study in Scarlet

Red,     Magenta-scarlet,Streaming ‘gainst the green,Nature’s scene, profound simplicity.   Photo Friday: #red Poetry Contest: Four Line Poem Write a four line poem that has a specific syllable count. The first line has 1 syllable, the second line has 5 syllables, the third line…

Morning

Mist entrapping skyscraped shards of glass, O’er-wraps the city, blanketing as grass. Reminds one of iconic cat’s paw creeping, Nature’s nudging, wakens our deep sleeping. It drapes serene, in silence and in wonder, No rays of sun this morn, yet still I ponder, Gentle…

Infinity

When I was  a young girl, I was obsessed with a box of  Morton Salt. “WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS” was its message, as the yellow-frocked gal, sheltered by her umbrella,  sloshed gayly through the puddles, while a steady stream of salt  poured from the…

Sheffield Sunrise

It’s been some time since last I scrunched those blades of summer grass, dew-drenched beneath my feet, Yet mem’ries still live, verdant, but now shades of what was once renewal, soul’s retreat. I’d wake before the dawn to catch the sweet, pre-sunrise moments, as…

Morning Ritual

He wakes at dawn with lust for life and glee, Shaking off the night shades, jingling tags (the clinking of his collar) call to me: “Wake up and join me, see my tail’s a wag.” Bounding down the first flight, waits; while I with…

Snow

It lay upon the crunchy winter sod, It reaches far and wide ‘top wooden slats, (a foot bridge o’er the icy cygnet pond), And spreads its shivers ‘cross the barnyard grass. The night before, while stoking coals in hearth, Awaiting Father Winter’s bedtime tuck,…

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