Magazine Posts

There is a serenity that comes over me,
When I plant bulbs or plants.
Knowing that they will soon grow tall
And beautify our garden, letting neighbors see,
The colorful display that nature can bring.

It's 5 in the morning
My head is a buzz,
With rambling thoughts,
But more like a fuzz.
I can't get my mind
To go back to sleep,
So I'm writing now,
Thoughts that aren't deep.
What is my problem?
I wish I knew,
Then I'd get more sleep,
Not do like I do.

The garden is now starting to do,
What Nature's way, wants it to.
Most daffodils are now gone,
The flowers brown and yet,
Foliage is full and soaks up the Sun.
Tulips are lovely, this time of year,
But I see petals, start to disappear.
The bluebells I planted, are budding now,
As I await the beauty, that I somehow
Think will be there, when in full bloom.
If the weather would warm
It would be quite soon.

I have discovered and am now aware
Of a pesky Wabbit or perhaps a Hare.
A shade of mixed tans and brown,
He presents a nice sight, quite renown,
By the young children, that see him play,
As he nibbles on my plants, every day.
I suppose that this daily eating habit,
Is very good for the pesky Wabbit.

Sunny Day
Daffodils are gone
Tulips aren't

Curiosity, can be your friend.
Ask the questions; again and again,
Until the truth comes to the fore,
Then ask again, for answers more.

Once again, I am in a rut.
Can't get passed, the and but.
I may be trying too hard this time.
To make the end of the sentence rhyme.
Not wishing to bore you with this mélange,
I hope that soon you will read the prose,
That I try to bring to a close,
As you, of all readers, might have chose.

Don Smith Photography www.donsmithphotography.com

Click to See Don Smith's workshops here

Patience, you are my friend.
Without patience, I would amend
My ability to stay in control
And not respond, at least not to all.
For trying my patience; what I see,
You know not what you do to me.