braids

the fabric of my bones

these places that weave in and through to you

where evergreens whisper, liken their leaves to call

 

in broken trails now enchanted, blushing blooms braiding to my heart

to ravens licking moonlight, in romantic song

 

the fabric of my bones

these places that weave in and through to you

keeping you close, keeping you whole

for me to remember, for you to kiss my soul

 

 

Blackmill-Gaia

Image by Brian Kirhagis

-just breathe-

 

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HIKING THE NARROWS IN ZION NATIONAL PARK – ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW — Yvonne’s Travel Blog

If you are an outdoor enthusiast, hiking the Narrows in Zion National Park is most likely on your bucket list, and for a good reason. The Narrows, or…

HIKING THE NARROWS IN ZION NATIONAL PARK – ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW — Yvonne’s Travel Blog

the chase: NaProWriMo

the darlings,

those little fledglings below

how they tickle my feathers,

tame my song

as earthen creatures try to plot an escape

from my fickle fancy of chase

Today’s prompt for National Poetry Writing Month was to imagine yourself an object or animal and write from their perspective. I chose a bird, full of moxy in his morning view awaiting breakfast.

Robins are always about and often as I watch from my picture window (where I captured this image) I see personalities flutter about. Some brazen, some bossy, some blending in with the leaves. Others all business while fledglings at heart give way to wing spirited games.

wisteria:haiku

raindrops from the moon

adorning the old oak tree

violet dreams weeping

I wait for this beauty to bloom each spring and as the years grow, she becomes more and more breathtaking. Wisteria, with its striking scents of honey and vanilla (at least those are the notes I pick up), symbolizes new life, love, sensuality and expanding consciousness.

For more of my flora photography you can visit my gallery here.

 

-just breathe-

blank slate: NaPoWriMo

the stages, the ages of her wild

where blooms now carelessly blow

across this blank slate, where her childhood began where it took root to grow

where barefoot runners got tangled up in bee parades

and crepe myrtle breezes stole the show

giggling sprites in the night carrying dreams, in softest blushed glow

where farmlands had peas to be shucked

and corn stalks reached for the sky

running through the rows, chasing birds knowing she too could fly

the stages, the ages of her wild

where blooms now carelessly blow

across this blank slate, where her childhood began where it took root to grow

now gone, now quiet, stolen by careless flames

she goes back to listen, to quietly reminisce

to ghosts of a childhood, those small moments of bliss

For NaPoWriMo month where the prompt given was to create a poem with a specific place in mind, incorporating concrete details like street names, distances, types of flowers, trees etc.

I chose my childhood home that was taken by a fire. The image i captured is how the empty lot stands today. Thank you for visiting and reading and for more of my photography you can visit my gallery here.