
Oh to be chicory,
abloom beneath hickory,
hearing rain chime and
dressed in diamonds. Continue reading

Oh to be chicory,
abloom beneath hickory,
hearing rain chime and
dressed in diamonds. Continue reading

Summer days cluster
together like roses, Continue reading

If I were a bee,
this is where I’d be. Continue reading

Don’t be absurd, I’m no bird,
I have neither wing nor urge to sing. Continue reading

I’ve been channeling my inner crone since my surgery. I quite like her spunk. She reminds me of Warning, a poem by Jenny Joseph:
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me. Continue reading

At dawn, rain started
with a few quiet drops,
like the whisper of dandelion
seeds, sticky with wishes. Continue reading
Here is a visit by a fellow Poetry Friday writer, Joy, all the way from Hawaii. I hope you have a couple minutes to visit her by clicking the link on her name.

A fairy comes to visit
me in my dream
together we eat
berries with cream. Continue reading

Yellow, blue and white
blooms spread wings.
The slow language of bird,
sky, rock and garden,
speaks in inner silence,
a place quieter than wind. Continue reading

She gave me a pink wink, Continue reading

Angels blare a brassy fanfare
on foxglove trumpets by the square. Continue reading

Trip-trap
along the path
finding dust,
twigs, bees
and green
dappled light
betwixt the trees. Continue reading