Spring begins deep, hidden.
Mysterious rays slip through,
whisper to seed, cold spore.
A bird offers its unique aria.
...
A cave called a stable
for a king's nursery.
Enthroned in a feed box,
sheep and goats his court.
...
Sliver brushed twigs on frosted branches,
Ice traces with cold webs spun about,
sketched in a whipped creme world.
...
I'm a freelance writer/photographer. I love time with my family and enjoy cooking, textile arts, swimming, reading and travel. Regular worship and meditation are my mainstays. My son, daughter and five grandchilden are the highlights of my life. Writing is wonderful and I am truly thankful for the abilities and opportunities I have been given. Poetry is a sweet escape. It mists my senses and cools my mind. It's an outlet for humor and self expression that nonfiction doesn't provide; a sweet adventure to enjoy whenever I choose.)
Overlooked Rainbows
Lashes wet with sleep shed tears;
morning sun drenches closed eyes.
Rainbow swirls rim each squint;
a promise tears will never drown.