Spirits of the Bog
Beneath the twilight’s reddened glow
where silvered waters softly flow,
the maples flame against the reeds
and bullfrogs leap and hide in weeds.
Beneath the twilight’s reddened glow
where silvered waters softly flow,
the maples flame against the reeds
and bullfrogs leap and hide in weeds.
A field of grass, a sea of green / where flowers wild, like dabs of paint, / add vibrancy to Nature’s scene –
Where wild abounds and nature calls / a trail winds through a gentle wood, / along a stream then to small falls, / where she met him, and love was good.
The west wind blows the wet away and sings you in, soft Autumn. So, hum your Southern strains on murmured …
I pin my wash in silvered light to soft chorale of laughing leaves, the twittering of sparrows back, this golden …
My lover is a sugar maple tree, her back erect and regal, erudite, her breast replete with summer’s greenery, her …
I grew beneath the shadows where light was hard to find lay there amongst the darkness abandoned, left behind. I …
A Mayfly lives a single day So every moment counts. Her time is metered out to her In minuscule amounts. …