All that glitters is not gold. Those who love have all the riches. Walking under the willow trees today, I imagined how amazing it would be to capture their beauty in stained glass. Willows set in jewel tones, art-deco style, cascading from the ceiling. Perhaps a ruby hummingbird or an emerald dragonfly also reveals itself within the scene upon closer…Read more Gilded Willow
poem
A Snow of Petals
A snow of petals in the wind, Is the ice cream of frigid flurries, Melting, unfurling, swirling, In a sweet, slow grace. Textures, gestures Linger, So closely held, Cherished As they disappear.
Birch Woods Spring
Birch woods spring, Delicate stuttering, Diaphanous muttering, of sweetly invisible blooms. Walking softly, Someone calling my name. A hush ascends to listening. Silvery streams beneath us, whispering promises as they wake.
