to the old oak leaves
piled by the wind
spring offers a pink bouquet
First In The Garden
So Many Goodbyes
to the leaves, colors and blossoms
a tender farewell to each
until we meet again
Come Sit
watch the slant of light
tilt us
towards autumn
April Snow
waiting for spring
the empty bench
is filled with snow
Renewal
beneath the dormant garden
lies the constant unseen work
of life
Ferocious Beauty
the birch
bows down
to winter
A Place For Togetherness
let’s not let
the picnic bench
be lonely
The Remembrance Bench
from heaven
you will spot me
beneath the enormity of trees
Across The River
on the quiet side of the house
the only voices
are the meadow birds
Like The Blue Guitar
the blue watering can
making poetry
out of the garden’s elements
The Sun Of The Ripening Seed
this particular
kind of sunshine
rouses sleeping seeds
February Garden
the bench
takes a sun bath
while imagining green
At One Eighty Three
if tranquility
had an entrance
it would be this
Pilgrimage To The Squirrel Bench
worship as
an acorn eaten
a devotion left
On The Porch
in the peacefulness
it is possible
to dream as big as the sky
Deep In The Garden
the bench submerged
in seeding dill
oh to be like a bug on a stem
Shelter From The Blistering Sun
our beloved tree
a great green umbrella
offering shade and sanctuary
The Steel Heron Presides
ah April
with her sunshine and snow
everything waiting to see which way it goes
The Shadow Lace Of Bare Trees
on the dormant garden’s
bench
Pastimes
and bird feeder
play winter’s waiting game
Our Spot
when the stars come out
and we’ll name them until dawn
They Are Dancing
we watch
firefly flowers
Winter Work
weary
old man winter
rests upon the bench
Keeping Company
the garden shed
and branch bench
share the wait for spring
Contemplation And The Bench
the empty bench
holding space
for all of my thoughts
The Garden Bench
in morning shade
watching
a summer day unfold
Awaiting Her Majesty
winter bejeweled bench
the snow queen’s
throne prepared
The Rest of Winter
despite
our brief reprieve
winter waits in the wings
The Bench In Solitude
wind
rests on the bench
waiting for direction
Where The Colors Lead
rainbow’s end
gold adorned
the leaves
