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I planted more bulbs, this past Fall.
Bulbs of Tulip, Daffodils and Bluebells.
I wait for the warmth of Spring,
when Mother Nature will do her thing
and I will marvel at what pokes thru,
almost as wonderful when I see you.

One of the few pansies
that the Rabbit didn't eat.

Next to you,
in our bed,
you move close
and you said,
"stay with me,
don't go away,
keep me close."
This I say,
"I love you
every day."
Hold me close,
I am cold,
Keep me warm,
I'm getting old,
stay with me,
until my time
is over here,
then you can
move away.

Photo by Anton Darius | @theSollers on Unsplash

An early bloomer
and more
is the lovely
Hellebore.

A string of words,
some dark as coal,
are coiled tightly
around my soul.
My question now
is so profound,
how do I manage
to write them down?

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

Photo by Tim Swaan on Unsplash

A box of words, stood alone,
high up on the shelf.
Words that had been used before
in another way or else,
some that were always hidden,
never being brought to light.
For they were forbidden words,
to be kept locked up tight.
Mean and cruel words, they were
causing heart ache, when
used in strings, almost everywhere.
What words are they, I hear now?
Blasphemous words, you say to me.
Well please explain how,
the words I love to write with Pen,
on a ruled, bound up book,
when I am writing now,
the last time I did look.

www.dannorrisphotography.com
http://dannorrisphoto.com

Photo by Mark Basarab on Unsplash

I write for my readers,
that's what I do.
I write for my readers
exactly like you.

When you hit "Like"
or comment a few,
I feel inspired to write
for those, just like you.