
The thunderhead rolls in
soon to darken the blue sky with rain
and throw lightening bolts like Zeus.

Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.

The thunderhead rolls in
soon to darken the blue sky with rain
and throw lightening bolts like Zeus.

Lavender and yellow delights
gather in the meadow
Woodstock for wildflowers.

The sweetest of woods
pine’s scent releases burdens from heads and hearts
and so they are known as the Keepers of Peace.

Midday by the river just the barest of breezes blows
and the only sound is of bees and dragonflies at work.

From the sanctuary of the woods animals watch
the metal bridge that carries man and his many parcels and purpose
to the other side and back again.

Brightest orb shining the way
through spring and into summer days,
lighting the route through woods and dark days.

The land is quilted with care
by leathered hands guiding the blades of the big red tractor.
An old wood fence ties this patch to the next.

The water glitters and shouts as it rushes on
carrying memories of perfection from the freshness of youth.
Age tempers today’s perfection with the acceptance of impermanence
making the glitter more brilliant and the shouting more joyful.

Sit on the big rock
in the sunshine by the river.
Let the water wash your worries away.
Let the birds sing the song in your heart.

Beneath the shroud of early morning mist
all creatures and growing things pause
and give thanks for the coming day.

This is the path that leads to the place
where the flowers know your name,
walk slowly and listen to their stories of you.

As dusk descends a storm approaches,
celestial light graces the trees
and shelters the shadow of the house.

In a few weeks time this road will lead
to lazy days shimmering with heat and nights with fireflies.

Spring sneaks in on little fox feet
greening the mountain while the world sleeps.

In April the earth vibrates
with a growing, glowing green
that celebrates each second of aliveness.

In the magic hours the forest glows
as trees catch the sun and release their dreams.

My feet feel an earth drained of her color.
My mind’s eye imagines greens below blue skies.

Some days in April
Spring feels farther away
than in December.

A fallen tree
makes the perfect spot
to sit and spy on fish.

Colors begin to leak into the landscape.
Spring approaches.

In a burst of energy, renewal and hope colors are released
as trees transform the landscape from winter to spring.

At the edge of the apple grove the spring comes above ground
and wanders across the meadow laughing in delight at the change of season.