field grass high and in seed
flower stalks looking for rest
abundance about to tip into decline
this is the story of the passage of time
Late Summer Garden
Begin
the fence
is neither
start nor finish
Monkshood
at the meadow monastery
frugal simplicity reveals
extravagant complexities
Concealment
the golden glow of sunlit dill
a perfect camouflage
for feasting finch
In The Flowering Meadow
in tandem
the soft caress of blossoms
the hum of insects busy
doing the work of the world
Location, Location, Location
birds too admire
a dooryard full
of flowers
Openings
between the heron and the house
morning wanders across the meadow
charming the new day
Before Us
summer stretches out
in sunshine and tree shade
idle days and lemonade
Go Slow
on the dirt road
through the greening valley
witness hope unfurling before you
How Sight Can Be A Feeling
Buddha sees
the beginnings of blooms
behind him
New To The World
oh to be
inquisitive
young and clean
Snow Garden
with color subtracted
beauty solely articulated
in line and form
Take The Cue
snow day
get outside
and play!
Still
the climbing vine
suspended in motion
green growth still a dream
The Long Fence
white posts and rails
stretch farther than memory
fastening the farm in place
February’s Gate
ready to swing wide open
for any and all
kinds of kindness and love
Sneaking By
there below the terrace
the elusive metal heron
keeping thoughts of summer alive
Sensing What Is Beyond Sight
like Mabel
the woods call to me too
beckoning with mysteries and solace
Vacillating Temperatures
winter wavers warm and cold
mimicking the wobble
of the old garden fence
At The Boundary We Will Know We Have Met
even in the solitary woods
someone cared
to make good neighbors
The Light Like A Kiss Goodbye
sneaking in
beneath the storm
a caress of light and warmth
Heaven’s Touch
the buttercups
glowing
like gold
Equine Musings
amongst the herd
a solitary
contemplator
Violets In The Lawn
an open invitation
to pollinators
come and stay awhile
Lingering
the north side
still cold
and leafless
February Garden
the bench
takes a sun bath
while imagining green
The Fence And The Field
nothing stands
in between
this place and peacefulness
Little Wren
do you know
how I count on you
to carry hope
Garden Nymph
as the garden winds down
she keeps watch
for the hard frost
High Summer
the sun at her zenith
the shade deepens
all things ever balancing