the sun’s been up awhile
but beneath winter’s blanket
the landscape still slumbers
Winter Morning
Juxtaposition
the surety of sharp lines
tempered by
the grace of curves
New England Directions
on the rise
past the shadows longer
than the long driveway
News
red orange dawn
announcing
wind and rain
All Is Right
horses snug
in their stables
the barn blanketed with snow
Quiescent
winter afternoon
stillness shrouds the farm
the dormant season settles on
Hearts Abound
seed pods and sugar houses
share the same wish
love, love, love
The Goings Of September
we wander the waning meadow
stopping to marvel
at every remaining bloom
Welcome
on the potted porch
a hospitality of flowers perched
the door to beauty flung wide
Openings
between the heron and the house
morning wanders across the meadow
charming the new day
The Tender Morning Blooms
now winter’s hardships
seem worthwhile
for they have brought us here
Winding Path
the finest way to travel
is meandering
making the path as you go
How A Hearth Makes A Home
the woods are our walls
and the floor a carpet of forget-me-nots
we use the sky as ceiling and heaven as the roof
Welcome, Welcome
forsythia in bloom
throwing open
the proverbial garden gate
Jane’s House
elegant in white
morning mist and magnolias
shroud your sanctuary
And Sometimes
the journey home
is strikingly different
but the destination is the same
New To The World
oh to be
inquisitive
young and clean
Spring’s Aura
almost invisibly the willow
begins to emanate
her green energy field
Rock Wall: An Origin Of Necessity
the fields cleared for planting
the crops rocky impediment
are now their border and protection
Sleepy House
eyelid of ice
the window
half closed
The Long Fence
white posts and rails
stretch farther than memory
fastening the farm in place
The Playhouse In The Pines
March is a time
of being between things
watching winter through the sun porch window
The Dairy’s Driveway
in the winter
like the cows
mostly black and white
Melt
only the sun knows
when the roofline
will give way
Stillness Settles On
in February
only snow
ascends the hay ladder
Time’s Vision
the barn’s
one empty window
an all seeing eye
Holding Place Until The Lamps Are Lighted
an insistence
of light within
the gathering grey
Come Home Soon
watching for the neighbor’s light
their curl of chimney smoke
to feel so not alone
Through The Window
the view
enhances my outlook
on all the comforts of inside
Perspective
the shingles
fooled my eye
the window told it straight