this day’s mysteries
gather in the mist
until divulged by the sun
River Morning
Cradled In The Valleys
fog snuggles
in the mountain
sleeping like a baby
Penciled In
barest
outlines of colors
before leaves unfurl
Arbor Ador
aged arbor
speaks to me
of countless happy times
Cold Petals
finery
of frost
a frozen flowering
Knowing Better We Had Hoped Anyway
dashing the hope
of early spring
winter returned
Room To Grow
every leaf bud revels
in the space
reserved for their expansion
Meeting
quaker bonnets
gather in the grass
spring worship
Inspiration
amidst bare branches
last year’s crabapples
inspiration for spring blooms
Promises
Sweet simple beauty
blooming in the grass
offering the scent of hope.