January 29, 2012 Sunday Whirl

Sunday Whirl

I open the book

The perfect grey feather

Found waiting

Morning quiet

Light penetrates my permeable

The only sound

The echo of the beat of my heart

Before me the field is open

The earth still frozen

My bare feet feel the cold

I am startled by the serenity

After the anguish

Shock of loss

A new day is born

The air fresh

A tiny flame burns in the hearth

January 24, 2012 Beautiful Birds

(Advanced Style, a documentary about old stylish women in New York.)
Beautiful Birds
Wrinkled from head to toe
Old as the oldest tree in the forest
Baubles and beads
Red and Green
Stretch round the world
Great hats
Great make up
An appreciation of fabrics
Woven round the world
Old boney hands
Select fish net hose
Red wisps of hair
Perfectly coiffed
It’s all about me
Don’t you see
I’m admired by my friends
Envied by all the others
Stop traffic
When I move I move
It’s all about freedom
Each an artist in their own right
Through their choices
They see Marilyn or Andy
They are one of them
Fearless
They have reached
Their prime

January 19, 2012 Word Gathering

http://margoroby.wordpress.com/2012/01/17/the-things-you-dont-say-tuesday-tryouts/#comment-2964

Margo Roby Prompt:  “The things you don’t say.”

Got nothing

Bite my tongue

Ain’t talking

Been here before

Learned my lesson

Keep it to myself

Blue berry pie

All over my face

Says it all

Clouds roll in

A new day begins

 

Note*  In a commercial, the Reverent Al Sharpton speaks of the children that come home from school, and find the blueberry pie left by their Moms who are away at work.  The children eat the pie and get blueberry pie all over their face.  I think I am saying we are transparent and everyone can read what is all over our face.

January 15, 2011 Sunday Whirl

winter-pond wordle

Wordle #39

Promise of Spring
Bear is not vain
Chooses winter to be dormant
Kneeling in her cave
Padding the surface with soft grasses
Sleep away the winter
In the depth of her cave
All is still
Still life

Time to reflect
To contemplate
Fresh crisp greens of spring
Dotted along the river
Home of the salmon
Resolution
To reel in as many as she can

In Spring
She looks across the broad meadow
A spectacle that is new
A promise

January 14, 2011 Still Life

Monarch Butterflies

It was a day in November,the day I reached my Mother’s home in Texas, the Monarch Butterflies were covering my Mother’s tree in her front yard.  The butterflies were on their migration to winter in Mexico.  There were only a few blooms that had not faded.  The butterflies were drinking from the blooms, the flight is a hard one.  I do not see Monarch Butterflies often in New Mexico, only a few times, and even then I questioned myself, I do not know if Monarch Butterflies even come to New Mexico.

Still Life
No one knows
When the sands will end
The final grain will crash to the floor

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock

Ah, I am speaking of time
The length of a life
The whole day through
The moment it will end
Still Life

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock

I look out over the meadow
The reddish brown horses
The leafless trees
The blue mountains
I see forever
I see through the eyes of a child
As nothing is forever
It is time to put away this childish view

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock

For a moment I think
It isn’t fair
Again a childish thought
For who could be more fair than death
It comes to everyone
No one is overlooked

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock