in the meadow
tide lines
of seeds
Witnessed By Barn Windows
Outside The Church Steeple
nature worships
with each leaf
a prayer
To Leave Is To Return
in the season
of seeds
everything is giving
Pergola
the roof of leaves
kaleidoscoping light
magic in the outside room
The Estate
bee balm bloom
by the blue door
a kind of coat of arms
Happiness
a smile spread
across the garden
pink azalea in bloom
The House Next Door
amongst the trees
their roof sheltering unknown
happinesses and heartbreak
The New Tradition
first flakes
of our April blizzard
mid-sixties tomorrow
Marshaled By Blue Sky
in the company
of blue sky and clouds
my strength gathers
Blue Barn Door
open wide
like the sky
welcome in the sun
A House For The Wind
racing in and out
the doors and windows
opened by absence
To Be Counted On
morning is a certainty
the colors of her sky
an eternal mystery
Wistful Windows
I see a longing
in the barns’ window eyes
unsure if it is theirs or mine
The Entry Is The Horn
the stairs
a cornucopia
abundance on Beacon Hill
Open To Change
there goes autumn
passing by
the back door
Round Bales
the hay harvest
rolling in
like a weather front
Weathered Boards
old barn
heart chamber
of the farm
The Garden Stairs
slowly we take the steps
reluctant to reach
the peak of bloom
House At The End Of Queen Anne’s Lane
a road of dirt
the flowers wild
this kingdom ruled by bees
To The Right And Left
here in the center
of the spring garden
hope materialized and amassed
Tender And True
more cherished for
winter’s long wait
spring’s hospitality of abundance
Reassurance
like an arm around its shoulder
the tree’s shadow
comforted the barn
Pieces
the barn became a puzzle
with weather and time taking pieces
waiting for hammer and saw to replace them
Renewal
beneath the dormant garden
lies the constant unseen work
of life
Winter Renewed
a small fresh snow
everything clean and coated
the landscape whitewashed
The Loving Landscape
red barn valentine
from the farm
to every passerby
Uncovered By Covering
after the snowfall
a tiny village
of teepees appeared
A Proclamation
they stepped
out of the mist
declaring their togetherness
Winter Morning
the sun’s been up awhile
but beneath winter’s blanket
the landscape still slumbers
Juxtaposition
the surety of sharp lines
tempered by
the grace of curves