The scent of spring was on the air this morningBreathing deep a sigh after the rainWhite blossoms on the dogwood are breaking And the indigo tinge of magnolias Signal the last breath winter
the scent of spring was on the air this morningbreathing deep a sigh after the rainwhite blossoms on the dogwood are breakingand the indigo tinge of magnoliassignal the last breath of winter
This is a better photo than yesterday. The patterns in the wood are fascinating, and the color and texture is warm and inviting.
An old rotting tree beside the lake. I like driftwood. It reminds me of old things and nature.
A stone laying next to the shore of the Lake Carlyle. I like the texture, and expecially the way the water brings out the patterns in the stone.
One of the things that struck me while in Africa, and continues to strike me, is the odd gap between technology and primitive conditions seen everywhere. Modern SUV’s next to mud huts, cell phones carried by people living in the middle of the bush.
Fireflies and whippoorwills On summer nights of yesteryear Bring to mind the thoughts so dear Stored away in precious nooks And kept in secret far from sight Till in the evening late at night With giggles and smiles and furtive looks You share with those who mean the most And…
Soft light, like snowflakes Falling through the air Arriving on your window Sees your sleeping there Soft light, like snowflakes Bid thee sleep in peace Drifting on like sweet dreams While all thy troubles cease
Before the light strikes the rocky shore And myst rolls up from the shadowy moor My heart beats, a pounding beneath my chest I pause as I look out on the foamy crest And I listen to the sea and its deafening roar As I watch the snow white sea…
Peaceful dreams and thoughtful streams of lilting water pure Drifting oer the soft green moor in sweetest songs of yore Wishing best and healing rest to thee of friendship fast To wake the day with voices gay upon the green green grass
