Tag Archives: oak

Deadwood

Deadwood You, the magnificent oakwith arms outstretchedEmbracing meHolding me with yourpower and strengthAlways protecting mefrom those who would harmYet this encompassing loveis marginalizing and isolatingKeeping me fromthose I loveYou left your splinterswhere I cannot remove themThey lie there under skinClearly visible yetirritating and inflamingYour mark left on mefor all to seeSlowly poisoningmy bloodstreamUntil I amContinue reading “Deadwood”

From Little Acorns

From Little Acorns  The Spanish mosshung in dreadlockson the old oakIt stood for centuriesin disguiseHearing what was spoke More than a treegrowing in the dirtStanding for generationsA place to meetInitials to carveLovers’ declarations Limbs spread wideoffering shadeto those needing restLeaves come and goa balance of the seasonsspace for many a nest Autumn’s abundant acornsscattered all aroundA squirrel’s delightRainyContinue reading “From Little Acorns”

Senses of Summer

The scent of gardenias Floating on late afternoon air Sweetly fragrant and tender Nothing can compare Spanish Moss hanging in dreadlocks On the old Rastafarian Oak Summer warmed earth No need for a hooded cloak Monarchs fluttering here and there Squirrels flying from tree to tree Water trickling over rocks Babbling stream to the seaContinue reading “Senses of Summer”

Eyes Wide Open

Eyes Wide Open – Week 2 Here are a few photos taken with my iPhone while out running.  I’m making a concerted effort to capture pictures of things I would normally not stop and take in. There is inspiration everywhere in beautiful nature.  My intention is to post some photos at the end of eachContinue reading “Eyes Wide Open”

The Old Tower

It was an easy amble along the cliff top until they could see the old tower standing majestically overlooking the cove. As they approached, the ruins of the old abbey came into full view and the memory of childhood adventures came rushing back, like a tidal wave, into Joanna’s mind.  They were such happy times. Continue reading “The Old Tower”

The Reader

Sweet sounds of the mourning dove The sun filtering through the trees A clearing full of buttercups and Daisies fluttering in the summer breeze You are sitting under the oak Reading your book so intently Not noticing my arrival I observe you patiently Your hair thick and dark Glasses on the tip of your noseContinue reading “The Reader”