Public Posts

Blowing wind,
across meadow and plain.
Rushing through as if
a Midnight train.

Carrying dirt and debris,
across the valley. where you be.
bringing your love,
home to me.

"In the last 10 years, Herasimtschuk has photographed forests across the Pacific Northwest, documenting the inhabitants of these last remaining old-growth ecosystems. From salamanders and salmon to bears and mountain lions, his images illustrate not only the beauty of the forests and their creatures but the symbiotic relationships which are vital to the forests’ health and the planet’s welfare" More at NPR ➜

Water spray to Rainbows,
coming in the fall.
A most pleasant display,
and that isn't all.

For Nature, in its wonder,
will never get old.
At least those are the words
I have been told.

It was early, one evening,
When I heard a strange call,
echoing from the tree line,
then off the garden wall.

A sound, I can't seem to recall,
except it was a strange tune.
It was the sound of a waterfowl,
a solitary, well crazy old Loon.

A garden pathway,
as I pass,
seeing flowers, lovely,
as if made of glass.

Colors radiate,
as an outward beam.
A beautiful setting,
so very serene.

Tucked away,
inboxes tall,
for your eyes to see,
that isn't all.

A melodic change
of events occurred,
when the songs,
of a bird were heard.

Heard by everyone.
one and all,
mostly in the spring,
but now in the fall.

Such a sound,
I will always hear,
when in the yard
and the birds were near.

Rainbows and Shamrocks,
a beautiful picture to astound.
Seeing them grow, naturally,
makes Nature so profound.

A good thing,
as I'm starting to see,
a resonate beauty,
for both you and me.

I love this time of the year,
when leaves are changing color,
from greens to yellow, red,
orange and brown.
Another cycle, another year,
it won't be too long,
before they disappear.

Walking a path,
of a garden style,
among the cinders,
and hyacinths, while

observing, tulips and daffodils.
A path of beauty I see,
bringing joy and pleasure,
to the lucky people, we.

Shimmering, lights the path,
through the garden dark.
Moon beams, light the way,
making the path less stark.

Now, as we approach,
the summers end,
autumns on its way,
the Solstice will begin.

Through a dark cloud,
shone the rising sun.
A start, to a late summer day,
not a surprise to anyone.

There is always something,
to be thankful for, during this life.
One to have been fortunate,
to have had a lovely wife.

I recall her brown eyes,
and her bright smile, missing
but most of all I miss,
her sweet lips kissing,
me on my neck.

Shimmering beams,
from the Moon, as it rose,
was magic to the flowers,
in their evening pose.

Light shadows fell,
from leaves and stem.
A mirage from heaven
and a heavenly Amen.